BAYARD TAYLOR.
Dead he lay among his books!
The peace of God was in his looks.
The peace of God was in his looks.
So those volumes from their shelves
Watched him, silent as themselves.
Watched him, silent as themselves.
Ah! his hand will nevermore
Turn their storied pages o'er;
Turn their storied pages o'er;
Nevermore his lips repeat
Songs of theirs, however sweet.
Songs of theirs, however sweet.
- ↑ In the Hofkirche at Innsbruck.