Page:Percival Lowell - an afterglow.djvu/200

Percival Lowell Dying, saw his life a thing Of large beginnings; and for young Hands yet untrained the harvesting, Amid the iniquitous years if harvest sprung. So in his death he sowed himself anew; Cast his intents over the grave to strike In the left world of livers living roots, And banyan-like, From his one tree raise up a wood of shoots. The indestructible intents which drew Their sap from him, Thus with a purpose grim, Into strange lands and hostile yet he threw, That there might be From him throughout the earth posterity: And so did he— Like to a smoldering fire by wind-blasts swirled— His dying embers strew to kindle all the world.

Yet not for this I praise The ending of his strenuous days; No, not alone that still Beyond the grave stretched that imperial Will. But that Death seems To set the gateway wide to ampler dreams. So to the last A visionary vast, The aspirant soul would have the body lie Among the hills immovably exalt 162