Dead he lay among his books! <br />The peace of God was in his looks. <br /> <br />As the statues in the gloom <br />Watch o'er Maximilian's tomb, <br /> <br />So those volumes from their shelves <br />Watched him, silent as themselves. <br /> <br />Ah! his hand will nevermore <br />Turn their storied pages o'er; <br /> <br />Nevermore his lips repeat <br />Songs of theirs, however sweet. <br /> <br />Let the lifeless body rest! <br />He is gone, who was its guest; <br /> <br />Gone, as travellers haste to leave <br />An inn, nor tarry until eve. <br /> <br />Traveller! in what realms afar, <br />In what planet, in what star, <br /> <br />In what vast, aerial space, <br />Shines the light upon thy face? <br /> <br />In what gardens of delight <br />Rest thy weary feet to-night? <br /> <br />Poet! thou, whose latest verse <br />Was a garland on thy hearse; <br /> <br />Thou hast sung, with organ tone, <br />In Deukalion's life, thine own; <br /> <br />On the ruins of the Past <br />Blooms the perfect flower at last. <br /> <br />Friend! but yesterday the bells <br />Rang for thee their loud farewells; <br /> <br />And to-day they toll for thee, <br />Lying dead beyond the sea; <br /> <br />Lying dead among thy books, <br />The peace of God in all thy looks!<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ultima-thule-bayard-taylor/
