Then
fancy shapes, as fancy can,
The grief my loss in him had wrought,
A grief as deep as life or thought,
But
stay’d in peace with God and man.
I
make a picture in the brain;
I hear the sentence that he speaks;
He bears the burthen of the weeks
But
turns his burthen into gain.
His
credit thus shall set me free;
And, influence-rich to soothe and save,
Unused example from the grave
Reach
out dead hands to comfort me.