Boz.
The loved of all the world is gone1
Into the silent land ;2
The man who, for his fellow-men,3
With burning brain and ready pen,4
Through all his years of fame toiled on5
With patient hand.6
His myriad mind was pure as bright,7
A pattern for our age !8
Its soaring wing as angel’s fair,9
Was never swept through tainted air—10
His steadfast hand refused to write11
One sullied page.12
A universal monarch he,13
Whose empire was mankind !14
His sceptre-pen of matchless sway,15
Peasant, and peer, and king obey ;16
Supreme its power through all the free17
Fair realm of mind.18
Toll not the Abbey bell to-day19
Above his cloistered bed,20
For still, as in the faded years,21
In all our smiles, and all our tears22
Of love, he lives, he lives for aye,23
Whom we call dead !24