. At early candle light and other poems. VICTOR HUGO is dead, you say! that dauntlessking who loomedLike a snowy mountain, above the pines of now he clambers sunward,with spirit all leaves his weary frame in thegraves deep all his loyal comrades, beside the leaders , baffled and bewildered, throthe cold, gray gloom. Dead, with his ^tna heart all burned to ashes now; The eloquent, resistless lips silent in the dust;That pen which wrote the doom upon Napoleons brow, And jarred his rotten throne, is laid away to rust. VICTOR HUGO 121 Loved by God and l
. At early candle light and other poems. VICTOR HUGO is dead, you say! that dauntlessking who loomedLike a snowy mountain, above the pines of now he clambers sunward,with spirit all leaves his weary frame in thegraves deep all his loyal comrades, beside the leaders , baffled and bewildered, throthe cold, gray gloom. Dead, with his ^tna heart all burned to ashes now; The eloquent, resistless lips silent in the dust;That pen which wrote the doom upon Napoleons brow, And jarred his rotten throne, is laid away to rust. VICTOR HUGO 121 Loved by God and little children, O honey-hearted man,How shall the world go onward, with no Hugo in thevan? The last of the immortals, latest of the lofty strain, All suckled in adversity, who tugged our sinkingraceOut of miry shamelessness. To keep thee we were fain,But lo, the Lord hath called thee to thy exalted place,Where the others all await thee, crowned and battle-scarred,To greet thee at thy coming to receive thy rich reward. A prophet named th
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