The North Star (Rochester)/1848/01/07/Memory of Clarkson

From the Philadelphia Saturday Courier.
MEMORY OF CLARKSON.
Lines Occasioned by the Death of the Great and Good Thomas Clarkson.

Clarkson! revered in every clime
Where Mercy lifts her voice sublime,
Immortal honors—guiltless fame—
Deep in our hearts have set thy name.

The patriot's wreath, though bright, must fade;
The diadem, by mortals made,
Grows dim and pale, beside that crown
Which circles thy unsought renown.

Thy simple majesty of mind,
Thy lofty purpose, well defined,
Shall stand before that searching eye
Which every motive can descry.

A foreign shore, the stranger's land,
The pathless waste, the burning sand,
Witnessed alike thy steady aim
A nation's sorrows to proclaim.

To break the fetters of the slave
Thy great resolve had aimed to save,
And change them to that golden chain,
By Heaven designed, from Heaven which came:

The links composed, since time began,
Of boundless love to erring man,
Though dimmed awhile and blended here
With strange alloy of guilt and fear.

Illustrious hero, great and good,
No trophies, stained with human blood,
Above thy honored dust shall wave,
To mock thy pure, unblemished grave.

Friend of my race, farewell! farewell!
Affection weeps to hear thy knell;
Thy requiem shall be fondly sung,
In distant land and foreign tongue.

And when thou standest at "the gate,"
Where countless myriads trembling wait,
Thine be the great reward to win—
"My faithful servant, enter in!"