Sublatum Ex Oculis. A Sonnet. Christmas, 1861.

'O selfless man and stainless gentleman!'

EVEN so, 'Goth giveth His beloved sleep!'
And grief o'erwhelms us on this holy morn,
And grief will wait and see the New Year born.
What can we else but bow our heads and weep?
The fountains of our love, new-found, are deep.
For one who lived — and lived in spite of scorn —
A selfless life of use, 'tis meet we mourn;
Since having sown he goes elsewhere to reap.
O True and Pure and Royal! round thy brow
We, the once blind, now seeing, sadly weave
Garlands of praise for duty nobly done:
'Great Prince, and man of men,' we know thee now
Too late, save that revering we believe
Thy works shall follow though thy rest is won.