EVELYN.

Much do they wrong our Henry, wise and kind,

Morose who name thee, cynical to men,

Forsaking manners civil and refined

To build thyself in Walden woods a den,—

Then flout society, flatter the rude hind.

We better knew thee, loyal citizen!

Thou, friendship’ s all-adventuring pioneer,

Civility itself didst civilize:

Whilst braggart boors, wavering’ twixt rage and fear,

Slave hearths lay waste, and Indian huts surprise,

And swift the Martyr’ s gibbet would uprear:

Thou hail’ dst him great whose valorous emprise

Orion’ s blazing belt dimmed in the sky,—

Then bowed thy unrepining head to die.