Sonnet Xxxix. Bayard Taylor.

CAN one so strong in hope, so rich in bloom That promised fruit of nobler worth than all He yet had given, drop thus with sudden fall? The busy brain no more its work resume? Can death for life so versatile find room? Still must we fancy thou canst hear our call Across the sea — with no dividing wall More dense than space to interpose its doom. Ah then — farewell, young-hearted genial friend! Farewell, true poet, who didst grow and build From thought to thought still upward and still new. Farewell, unsullied toiler in a guild Where some defile their hands, and where so few With aims as pure strive faithful to the end.