Charles Sumner

By Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Garlands upon his grave,
And flowers upon his hearse;
And to the tender heart and brave,
The tribute of this verse.

His was the troubled life,
The conflict and the pain;
The griefs, the bitterness of strife,
The honour without stain.

Like Winkelried, he took
Into his manly breast
The sheaf of hostile spears, and broke
A path for the oppress'd;

Then from the fatal field,
Upon a nation's heart,
Borne like a warrior on his shield! --
So should the brave depart.

Death takes us by surprise,
And stays our hurrying feet;
The great design unfinish'd lies
Our lives are incomplete.

But in the dark unknown,
Perfect their circles seem,
Even as a bridge's arch of stone
Is rounded in the stream.

Alike are life and death
When life in death survives,
And the interrupted breath
Inspires a thousand lives.

Were a star quench'd on high,
For ages would its light,
Still travelling downward from the sky
Shine on our mortal sight.

So when a great man dies,
For years beyond our ken,
The light he leaves behind him lies
Upon the paths of men.

March 30, 1874