Life of John Boyle O'Reilly — Chapter 19

"He ruled no serfs, and he knew no pride,He was one with the workers, side by side;He would never believe but a man was madeFor a nobler end than the glory of trade.He mourned all selfish and shrewd endeavor,But he never injured a weak one— never.When censure was passed he was kindly dumb;He was never so wise but a fault would come!He erred and was sorry ; but he never drewA trusting heart from the pure and true.When friends look back from the years to beGod grant they may say such things of me."

I stirred in my sleep with a sudden fear.The breath of sorrow seemed very near.And the sound of weeping; I woke and said,"Some one is dying, some one is dead."

Long time I lay in the darkened room,Dawn just piercing the silent gloom,And prayed, "O Saviour, whoe'er it be.May the parting spirit find rest in Thee!"

The morn rose brightly and sweetly smiledO'er the dancing waves, like a happy child;I was singing softly, when some one said,"The truest of all the true is dead."

And I knew that thousands of miles awayHearts were breaking that summer day, —That the wide world over, from pole to pole,There were sighs and tears, and "God rest his soul!"

And I knew—his dearest friends apart.The life of his life and the heart of his heart—None wept more for that vacant placeThan I,—who never had seen his face.