F. D. MAURICE.
How much does England lose in losing thee !— The wise, large heart, the fearless intellect, The spirit formed to counsel and direct By sympathy wide-spreading like the sea, And passionate love of truth ; th' example high, To fight for God in spite of Church or sect, To grasp the real and the false reject, Patient midst slander, calm midst obloquy.
0 Maurice ! brother! friend! the Spring's sweet breath, That wakens buds, and birds, and early flowers, Has touch'd thee with the silent stroke of death, To leave us lonely through the length'ning hours ; But on thy brow is placed a heavenly wreath That needs no warmth of sun or dew of showers.
JOHN DENNIS.