Farewell, farewell! Thy latest word is spoken:
    The lute thou lovedst hath given its latest tone;
Yet not without a lingering, parting token
    Hast thou gone from us, young and gifted one!
And what in love thou gavest, here we treasure,
    Sweet words of song penned in those far-off wilds,
And pure and righteous thoughts, in lofty measure,
    Strong as a patriot's, gentle as a child's.
Here shrine we them, like holy relics keeping,
    That they who loved thee may approach and read;
May know thy latest thoughts; may joy in weeping
    That thou wast worthy to be loved indeed!
Farewell, farewell! And as thy heart could cherish
    For love, a flower, the sere leaf of a tree,—
So from these pages shall not lightly perish
    Thy latest lays—memento flowers of thee!