Thus, some tall tree that long hath stood <br />The glory of its native wood, <br />By storms destroyed, or length of years, <br />Demands the tribute of our tears. <br /> <br />The pile, that took long time to raise, <br />To dust returns by slow decays: <br />But, when its destined years are o'er, <br />We must regret the loss the more. <br /> <br />So long accustomed to your aid, <br />The world laments your exit made; <br />So long befriended by your art, <br />Philosopher, 'tis hard to part!-- <br /> <br />When monarchs tumble to the ground, <br />Successors easily are found: <br />But, matchless FRANKLIN! what a few <br />Can hope to rival such as YOU, <br />Who seized from kings their sceptered pride, <br />And turned the lightning darts aside.<br /><br />Philip Freneau<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/on-the-death-of-dr-benjamin-franklin/
