REV. DR. JAMES W. ALEXANDER,

The great and good. How startling is the knell

That tells he is but dust.

The echo comes

From where Virginia's health-reviving springs

Make many whole. But waiting there for him

The dark-winged angel who doth come but once,

Troubled the waters, and his latest breath

Fled, where his first was drawn.

That noble brow

So mark'd with intellect, so clear with truth,

Grave in its goodness, in its love serene,

Will it be seen no more?

That earnest voice

Filling the Temple-arch so gloriously,

With themes of import to the undying soul

Enforced by power of fervid eloquence

Is it forever mute?

That mind so rich

With varied learning and with classic lore,

Studious, progressive, affluent, profound,

That feeling heart, instinct with sympathy

For the world's family of grief and pain,

The dark in feature, or the lost in sin,

Say, are their treasures lost?

No, on the page

Of many a tome, traced by his tireless pen

They live and brighten for a race to come,

Prompting the wise, cheering the sorrowful,

And for the little children whom he loved

Meting out fitting words, like dewy pearls

Glittering along their path.

His chief delight

Was in his Master's work. How well performed

Speak ye whose feet upon Salvation's rock

Were planted through his prayers. His zeal involved

No element of self, but hand in hand

Walk'd with humility. He needeth not

Praise from our mortal lips. The monuments

Of bronze or marble, what are they to him

Who hath his firm abode above the stars?

— Yet may the people mourn, may freshly keep

The transcript of his life, nor wrongly ask

“When shall we look upon his like again?”