MR. JOHN WARBURTON,

The knot of crape upon yon stately door,

And sadness brooding o'er the sun-bright halls,

What do they signify?

Death hath been there

Where truth and goodness hand in hand with love

Walk'd for so many years.

Death hath been there,

To do mid flowing tears his mighty work,

Extinguishing the tyranny of pain

And taking the immortal essence home

Where it would be.

Yet is there left behind

A transcript that we cherish, and a chasm

We have no power to fill. Almost it seems

That we beheld him still, with quiet step

Moving among us, saintly and serene,

Clear-sighted, upright, held in high regard,

Yet meekly unambitious, seeking nought

Of windy honor from the mouth of men

But with the Gospel's perfect code content,

Breathing good-will to all.

Freely his wealth

Wrought blessed channels mid the sons of need,

Lending Philanthropy and Piety

A stronger impulse in their mission-course

To ameliorate and save.

So, thus intent

On higher deeds and aims than earth supplies,

An adept in that true philosophy

Learnt only in Christ's school, he calmly went

Unto his Master and the Class above.