Brighter now glowed his cheek, and still more bright,
With that unchanging, ever-youthful glow,--
That courage which o'ercomes, in hard-fought fight,
Sooner or later, every earthly foe,--
That faith which, soaring to the realms of light,
Now boldly presseth on, now bendeth low,
So that the good may work, wax, thrive amain,
So that the day the noble may attain.

Yet, though so skilled, of such transcendent worth,
This boarded scaffold doth he not despise;
The fate that on its axis turns the earth
From day to night, here shows he to our eyes,
Raising, through many a work of glorious birth,
Art and the artist's fame up toward the skies.
He fills with blossoms of the noblest strife,
With life itself, this effigy of life.

His giant-step, as ye full surely know,
Measured the circle of the will and deed,
Each country's changing thoughts and morals, too,
The darksome book with clearness could he read;
Yet how he, breathless 'midst his friends so true,
Despaired in sorrow, scarce from pain was freed,--
All this have we, in sadly happy years,
For he was ours, bewailed with feeling tears.

When from the agonizing weight of grief
He raised his eyes upon the world again,