While the dark war-clouds gathering at his feet
Involved the scene.—It was a holy sight
To gaze upon that venerable man
Remembering all his glories, all his toils,
And feeling that his earth-receding grasp
Was on the anchor of eternal life.—
—But mid that reverent group, invisible
To mortal ken, death's mighty angel stood,
With long-commission'd dart; and when he read
The Nunc Dimittis, in that eye serene,
The sable of his ice-cold wing he wrapt
Around the patriarch's bosom.—
—Full of days,
And full of honours, on the couch of rest
He laid him down.—There was a fearful pause
Too eloquent for tears,—and then there came
The sigh of mourning thousands murmuring low
In filial grief.—I listened as the dirge
Closed that brief day, and thought how joy and wo
Walk like twin sisters through the vale of life
Twining its woof with good and evil threads,
And scarce forbore to weep, though the bright star,
Snatch'd from our lower firmament, would glow
With added lustre in a deathless clime.
DEATH OF JEFFERSON.
july 4, 1826.
Turn from yon mountain-height and weep
Thou philosophic maid!
Who erst on Pindus' hallow'd steep
The lore of heaven survey'd.
