DEAD IN SIGHT OF FAME

Dead! Dead! Dead!

We thought him ours alone;

And were so proud to see him tread

The rounds of fame, and lift his head

Where sunlight ever shone;

But now our aching eyes are dim,

And look through tears in vain for him.

Name! Name! Name!

It was his diadem;

Nor ever tarnish-taint of shame

Could dim its luster — like a flame

Reflected in a gem,

He wears it blazing on his brow

Within the courts of Heaven now.

Tears! Tears! Tears!

Like dews upon the leaf

That bursts at last — from out the years

The blossom of a trust appears

That blooms above the grief;

And mother, brother, wife and child

Will see it and be reconciled.