Sonnet (A.L.)

Never lived man whose heart the people’s heart
     Felt as it felt thine, giving throb for throb;
     Never from nations went so deep a sob
Of sorrow as for thee, when thou didst part
From the great work whose doing made thee great
     Among the greatest! Never nobler name
     Hath history given to the ward of Fame
Than thine, O saviour of the imperiled state,
     Who spoke the word that snapped a people’s chains,
And flung wide open Freedom’s temple-fate
     To unborn millions, who in choral strains,
From age to age through all earth’s coming days,
Shall link thy name and deed to deathless praise,
     While God’s “Well done!” crowns all,—thy gain of gains!