Page:Lyrics of Lowly Life Dunbar (1896).djvu/64



High up there are no thorns to prod,

Nor boulders lurking 'neath the clod

To turn the keenness of the share,

For flight is ever free and rare;

But heroes they the soil who 've trod,

Not they who soar!

OT o'er thy dust let there be spent

The gush of maudlin sentiment;

Such drift as that is not for thee,

Whose life and deeds and songs agree,

Sublime in their simplicity.

Nor shall the sorrowing tear be shed.

O singer sweet, thou art not dead!

In spite of time's malignant chill,

With living fire thy songs shall thrill,

And men shall say, "He liveth still!"

Great poets never die, for Earth

Doth count their lives of too great worth