Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/218



"It is our hope and expectation, that for many years this apartment will remain as it was left."—Memoir by his Son.

, leave it as it was, untouch'd, unchanged, And consecrate to hallow'd memories Of him, the clear-soul'd man, who dwelt with truth As with a brother. Break not their array, Those sages and philosophers, who mix'd Their thoughts with his, feeding the altar-flame Of science, with fresh incense day and night. Spake not the voices of the solemn stars Here to their votary? Scann'd they here, his eye Unwearied, searching out their mystic laws? And shed they not, from their eternal lamps, Serener light on him? Methinks 'twere sin To pry with curious or irreverent hand Amid those pages where his self-taught mind Imbodied its creations. O'er yon desk How oft he toil'd amid the tomes he loved, To make the occult luminous, and strew The priceless jewels of profoundest thought To the wayfaring man, or him who steers With naught but seas around and skies above— The hardy mariner.