As  far  as  sun  from  sun:  there  lacks  not  room,

Nor  time,  nor  care,  where  all  is  infinite*

And  still  I  doubt:  it  is  a  Gordian  knot,

A  dark  deep  riddle,  rich  with  curious  thoughts;

Yet  hear  me  tell  a  trivial  incident,

And  draw  thine  own  conclusion  from  my  tale.
Paris  kept  holiday;   a  merrier  sight

The  crowded  Champs  Elysees  never  saw:

Loud  pealing-  laughter,  songs,  and  tlageolcts,

And  giddy  dances,  'neath  the  shadowing  ehns,

Green  vistas  throng'd  with  thoughtless  multitudes,

Traitorous  processions,  frivolous  pursuits.
And  pleasures  full  of  sin,  —  the  loud  "hurra!"

And  fierce  enthusiastic  "  Vive  la  nation ! "  —

Were  these  thy  ways  and  works,  O  godlike  man,

Monopolist  of  mind,  great  patentee

Of  truth,  and  sense,  and  reasonable  soul  ?

My  heart  was  sick  with  gayety;   nor  less.
When  (sad,  sad  contrast  to  the  sensual  scene,)

I  marked  a  single  hearse  through  the  dense  crowd

Move  on  its  noiseless  melancholy  way :

The  blazing  sun  half  quench'd  it  with  his  beams,

And  show'd  it  but  more  sorrowful:  I  gaz'd,

And  gaz'd  with  wonder  that  no  feeling  heart.
No  solitary  man  followed,  to  note

The  spot  wliere  poor  mortality  must  sleep:

Alas  !  it  was  a  friendless  child  of  sorrow,

That  stole  unheeded  to  the  house  of  Death  !

My  heart  beat  strong  wiih  sympathy,  and  loath'd

The  noisy  follies  that  were  buzzing  round  me,

And  I  resolved  to  watch  him  to  his  grave,

And  give  a  man  his  fellow-sinner's  tear:

I  left  the  laughing  crowd,  and  quickly  gained

That  dreary  hearse,  and  found,  —  ho  was  not  friendless!

Yes,  there  was  one,  one  only,  faithful  found

To  that  forgotten  wanderer,  —  his  dog  '

And  there,  with  measured  step,  and  drooping  head,

And  tearful  eye,  paced  on  the  stricken  mourner.
