THOMAS DE QUINCEY

Through life he strove to reach his longed-for goal,

Living secluded in a forest dell;

It was his wish to learn himself so well

As to command the secrets of the soul;

He studied, wrote, and fashioned out life's scroll

Until the spirit's instincts could he spell;

And then at last diapason swell,

Burst forth his writings,‘ round the world to roll!

As organ music sighs through cloistered aisle,

As mighty calms upon the waters steal,

As raging, shrieking tempest-blasts assail;

So doth his magic word our minds beguile

Until, swept onward by each peal on peal,

Our souls are lured beyond this mortal veil.