The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 3.
John Greenleaf Whittier, Ed.

---

[132] There, where with living ear and eye
     He heard Potomac's flowing,
And, through his tall ancestral trees,
     Saw autumn's sunset glowing,
He sleeps, still looking to the west,
     Beneath the dark wood shadow,
As if he still would see the sun
     Sink down on wave and meadow.

Bard, Sage, and Tribune! in himself
     All moods of mind contrasting,—
The tenderest wail of human woe,
     The scorn like lightning blasting;
The pathos which from rival eyes
     Unwilling tears could summon,
The stinging taunt the fiery burst
     Of hatred scarcely human!

Mirth, sparkling like a diamond shower,
     From lips of life-long sadness;
Clear picturings of majestic thought
     Upon a ground of madness;
And over all Romance and Song
     A classic beauty throwing,
And laurelled Clio at his side
     Her storied pages showing.

All parties feared him: each in turn
     Beheld its schemes disjointed,
As right or left his fatal glance
     And spectral finger pointed.
Sworn foe of Cant, he smote it down
     With trenchant wit unsparing,