TO DANIEL MANIN

If that most noble soul, which, here on earth,

Was known as Manin, yet have consciousness

Of what is, and what is not, being not less

Than here he was, in courage and in worth,

Seeing the world whereon we sweat and strive;

Shall he not know his Italy, and bless,

And in his own heart praise the steadfastness

That held him to his purpose when alive?

Shall he not have reward for all his pain,

Who, dying with his incompleted aim,

Saw failure only, and the bitter toll

Of loved ones lost, and lost, it seemed, in vain?

Must not that heart still keep his country's name,

Though o'er him all death's waters heave and roll?