MY OLD PRECEPTOR.
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And they, from out whose hearts the priceless treasure
Of conscious truth, has long since passed away;
Within whose minds is darkness without measure,
A darkness that will never end in day;
They rise around, with, brows all bright with pleasure,
Such as the false world dooms to sure decay.
Of conscious truth, has long since passed away;
Within whose minds is darkness without measure,
A darkness that will never end in day;
They rise around, with, brows all bright with pleasure,
Such as the false world dooms to sure decay.
And they, within whose hearts fond memory never
May find a time to breathe one thought of me;
Whose all is centered in one vast endeavor
To build a monument the world may see;
They come with eyes undimmed, hearts warm as ever,
And take their places round me joyously.
May find a time to breathe one thought of me;
Whose all is centered in one vast endeavor
To build a monument the world may see;
They come with eyes undimmed, hearts warm as ever,
And take their places round me joyously.
He, too, is there, whose sun has long departed.
Who lived his life out with no settled plan;
Patient, yet proud, hasty, yet gentle-hearted;
So inconsistent is the heart of man.
The "observed of all observers"—ere we parted
How oft our anxious eyes his face would scan.
Who lived his life out with no settled plan;
Patient, yet proud, hasty, yet gentle-hearted;
So inconsistent is the heart of man.
The "observed of all observers"—ere we parted
How oft our anxious eyes his face would scan.
Some mischief done, or else in contemplation,
Some course to track, man would not dare pursue,
Fear of discovery, or the palpitation
Some course to track, man would not dare pursue,
Fear of discovery, or the palpitation
