AMONG the many lives that I have known, None I remember more serene and sweet, More rounded in itself and more complete, Than his, who lies beneath this funeral stone. These pines, that murmur in low monotone, These walks frequented by scholastic feet, Were all his world; but in this calm retreat For him the teacher's chair became a throne. With fond affection memory loves to dwell On the old days, when his example made A pastime of the toil of tongue and pen; And now, amid the groves he loved so well That naught could lure him from their grateful shade, He sleeps, but wakes elsewhere, for God hath said, Amen! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...LOVE BEING ALL ONE by ROBERT FROST PUSSY-WILLOW TIME by ROBERT FROST BENEDICTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON CALLING DREAMS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON JULY IN GEORGY by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON IN WALKED BUD WITH A PALETTE by CLARENCE MAJOR |