The Rhode Island Republican

THE BURIAL OF ARNOLD

Member of the Senior Class of Yale College.

BY N. P. WILLIS.

Ye've gather'd to your place of prayer,
With slow and measured tread,
Your ranks are full- your mates are there--
But the soul of one has fled,
He proudest in his strength,
The manliest of ye all:
Why lies he at the fearful length,
And ye around his pall?

Ye reckon it in days, since he
Strode up that soot-worn aisle,
With his dark eye flashing gloriously,
And his lip wreath'd with a smile,
Oh had it been but told you then,
To mark whose lamp was dim,
From out yon rank of fresh lipp'd men
Would ye have singled him?

Whose was the sinewy arm which flung
Defiance to the ring?
Whose laugh of victory loudest rung,
Yet not for glorying?
Whose heart in generous deed and thought,
No rivalry might brook.
And yet distinction claiming not:
There lies he-go and look?

Oh now his requiem is done,
The last deep prayer is said--
Slow-for it presses heavily-
It is a man ye bear!
Slow for our thoughts dwell wearily
On the noble sleeper there
Tread lightly, comrades!-we have laid
His dark locks on his brow

Like life--save deeper light and shade,
We'll not disturb them now;
Tread lightly for 'tis beautiful,
The blue vein'd eye-lid's sleep.
Gliding the eye death left so dull,--
Its slumber we will keep

Rest now!-his journeying is done--
Your feet are on his sod--
Death's chain is on your champion,
He waiteth here his God!
Ay-turn and weep-'tis manliness
To be heart broken here-
For the grave of earth's best nobleness
Is water'd by a tear.