Charles Jewett M.D.

A noble life well rounded to its goal!
     A gallant race well run!
I see the crowning of a worthy soul, 
     I hear the sweet, "Well done
Faithful and true, unbettered by the best 
For loyal service! Enter into rest!"

I they may sorrow who have lost a friend,
     Then all things pure and glad, 
Shall be his mourners, champions who defend 
     The Innocent, wronged or sad
Truth's lover and virtue's guardian by whose side 
His keen steel flashed, will weep that he has died.

But if the fulfilled stature of a man 
     That like a star defies
The blight of years, —a heart whose clear blood ran, 
     For truth that never dies
May lift a proud love o'er the shafts of loss, 
Then this man's life shall crown our sorrow's cross.

A loving life that made home beautiful
     With more than wealth could buy,
A life of service to the golden rule 
     That wheels the orbs on high;
By all that sweetened his own hearth’s delight 
Sent forth to rescue other homes from blight.

World's honors; incense of the flattering crowd, 
     The market's glittering prize;
Civic or martial wreaths; the garlands proud 
     That tempt ambitious eyes:
Though clear within his ample grasp apart 
From his high task drew not his steadfast heart.

Above the lute of pleasure and the clang 
     Of clarions blown for fame,
The long shrill shriek of murdered mothers rang!
     The wail of orphans came!
With sob and curse and idiot laugh and whine, 
Of manhood blasted in the drench of wine!

Behind the sceptre and the shield of law
     Counting their bloody gains
The gloating villains of this woe he saw
     Caressed by Fashion's train!
Then rose the Hero, sank all soft desire, 
His eye was lightning and his blood was fire.

Then his long war of " Forty years" began 
     On virtue's deadliest foes;
Flashed his wit's falchion in the battle's van, 
     Fast fell his broadsword blows;
And his keen scalpel's pitiless surgery
Let slip the wind of many a bloated lie!

On, in the darkness faithful as in light;
     If earth below grew black,
God overhead was everlasting Might
     To him, who turned not back!
On, never resting, till that great heart's tide 
Broke its own barriers and he sank and died.

Here drop the curtain, looking up through tears,
     For light of larger faith
To see the harvest of his all-ripe years
     Sown by the Angel Death:
For a true life goes broadening from the grave.
Through untold time, to bless, inspire and save.