Melbourne Punch

Punch Melbourne. 7 November 1861.

The black man bow'd his head and wept,
Above the hero's grave,
Who, for a noble end achiv'd,
His life a forfeit gave;

---

The desert cross'd, the problem solved,
And rent aside the veil,
Which other daring hands essayed,
To lift without avail.

---

Brave heart, too early still'd by death,
Victor, but victim too,
The deed fulfill'd an earnest of,
The geater thou mightst do,

---

Had life attain'd its utmost span,
And thou return'd to reap,
The honors which fall vainly on
Thee, in thy dreamless sleep.

---

What can we give thee now but tears?
how dignify thy name?
The cypress wioth the laurel blends
Dark'ning thy meed of fame.

---

But greenly in our memories
Shall live the names of Burke,
And brave yopung Wills, who perish'd but,
Completed their great work;

---

The younget still by dreadful thoughts
Upheld while life remain'd;
By courage, constancy and hope
To his last hour sustain'd.

---

And honor be to him who heard
His leader's dying moan'
Composed his limbs in their last rest,
And then went forth alone.