}In dew-brushed amethyst [Gray spindles whirl and twist—"The moor-mad mesmerist—Subtly, Aladdin-wise, Spilis blue in bronze, and vies With spiders' busy exes.
What silken unison Cascades of onyx run {Through Flemish frescoes spun.
Beneath this stone lies one good man; and when We say his kindly thought towards all men Was as generous to the living as to the dead—What more for any mortal could be said His only enemies wore those he tried To help, and failed; who blamed him, in their pride, Forgetting that his power was not as great As his intention—and their own work state. And if he met with men too slow to move Into the fulness of his own clear love, He looked for the fault in his own self, and not Blamed other men—like our more common tot His boundless trust and innocence of evil blood in opal urns, Tempted the base and'mean, and helped the De Since such a man, without suspicion, kind, 'Was duped by many a false, ungrateful mis He's gone to Heaven—beeause he lived so well 'That many a wretch through him has gone to Holl '—W. H, Davis in "New Statesman'
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.