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HE filled the Nation's eye and heart,

An honored, loved, familiar name; So much a brother, that his fame Seemed of our lives a common part.

His towering figure, sharp and spare,

Was with such nervous tension strung, As if on each strained sinew swung The burden of a people's care.

His changing face what pen can draw?
Pathetic, kindly, droll, or stern;
And with a glance so quick to learn
The inmost truth of all he saw.

Pride found no idle space to spawn

Her fancies in his busy mind;

His worth-like health or air-could find No just appraisal till withdrawn.

He was his Country's-not his own!
He had no wish but for her weal;
Nor for himself could think or feel
But as a laborer for her throne.

Her flag upon the heights of power,
Stainless and unassailed to place-
To this one end his earnest face
Was sent through every burdened hour.

Charles G. Halpine.

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