TRIBUTE TO THE HONORABLE JACOB S. YERGER.
Hark! hark! a slow and mournful sound is breaking The sultry stillness of the morning air;It whispers of a "sleep that knows no waking," Of sad and loving hearts that swell to bursting there.Let no wild voice of sorrow rise above him, In holy silence lay him down to rest;Embalmed in bitter tears from those who love him, His great heart silent in his icy breast.
He needs no record of terrestrial glory, No sculptured shaft to tell the world his name,No marble pile, or golden-lettered story, To give to coming years his deathless fame.In all his gathered greatness now he slumbers, The sacred relic of a giant mind;Then breathe, my harp, thy saddest, holiest numbers Above the brow unrivalled light entwined.
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