206 THE MARTYR STUDENT. 



Yet in an hour of calm, its haven won, 

 Gone down, and perished in the noon-day Sun. 

 So did he pass away, who would have found 

 Delight in praise and lived in honor's sound ; 

 Vain praise ! most empty homage I when as now, 

 They bind the night-shade on the Martyr's brow. 



Yet still that fate be hallowed — still revere 



His tomb sublime, and dew it with a tear ! 



For not by thirst of gore he fell, — or bled 



In battle-field with the promiscuous dead — 



Not for the sake of wealth did he invite 



In dangerous climes, Destruction's fevered blight. 



Or to uphold the worthless, idly spend 



His soul's best powers, and court an earlier end. 



But that the stream of knowledge might diffuse 



To thirsty bosoms its celestial dews ; 



That Science, glorious Science, should display 



Her eagle wing, and bask in noon of day ; 



That he, her chosen son, her prophet mind. 



Might be her herald unto human kind, 



And if the crown he wore, to merit due. 



By equal sacrifice deserve it too. 



Peace to the Martyr-Student ! Still, though sere, 

 Those leaves shall scutcheon gloriously his bier, 

 And every voice that breathes his name, attest 

 Sweet sympathy in many a kindred breast; 

 Soothing his manes — if perchance there last 

 In the freed mind a care for what is past. 

 Or that the exalted spirit e'er may find 

 One added joy from things it left behind. 



