THE CANADIAN ENTOMOLOGIST. 379 



"He is no king of ours," you say, 



"We know him not "; yet bare the head, 

 Pay you your tribute, he is dead, 

 I saw him pass in state to-day. 



ii. 



To bow the knee he was not planned 



With willowy grace and pliant form ; 



Like stalwart oak he faced the storm 

 And bore its brunt — a monarch grand. 



A shock of rebel locks upreared 



Above the forehead bold and high ; 



'Neath shaggy brow the deep-set eye 

 Challenged enquiry; grizzled beard 



Part hid the lip ; a man endued 



With power of thought, you read the face ; 

 The Maker moulds in some for grace. 



For strength those rugged features hewed. 



In mind and will maturest man, 



A boy at heart ; his eager quest 



Of Nature's ways the boy confessed, 

 But through it all endurance ran \ 



Bend as they might the sturdy frame 



And quell the lustre of the eye, 



Not years could daunt the purpose high 

 Or quench the ardent spirit's flame. 



in. 



Greybeard and youth, a thoughtful throng, 



Would gather round their Scottish sage, 



Right gladly youth give place to age, 

 Listen and learn and ponder long. 



Was life's dark riddle hard to read ? 



His vibrant tones would cheer. Were there 

 Who questioned truth ? who fought despair? 



He welcomed all, nor asked their creed. 



