MY NAMESAKE. Addressed to Francis Greenleaf Allison of Burlington, New Jersey. - - - - You scarcely need my tardy thanks, - - - - Who, self-rewarded, nurse and tend-- - - - - A green leaf on your own Green Banks-- #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? - - - - The fabled founts of song to try, - - - - They've drained, for aught I know, the spring #NAME? - - - - Ah well!--The wreath the Muses braid - - - - Proves often Folly's cap and bell; - - - - Methinks, my ample beaver's shade #NAME? - - - - Let Love's and Friendship's tender debt #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? - - - - One's vacant house of life about, #NAME? - - - - His faults and follies out?-- - - - - Why stuff, for fools to gaze upon, - - - - With chaff of words, the garb he wore, #NAME? #NAME? - - - - Let kindly Silence close again, - - - - The picture vanish from the eye, #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? - - - - A mother's love, a father's pride, - - - - Shall keep alive my own! #NAME? - - - - The young leaf wet with morning dew, #NAME? #NAME? - - - - That name shall be a household word, - - - - A spell to waken smile or sigh; #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? - - - - When asked the reason of thy name, - - - - Shalt answer: One 't were vain to praise #NAME? - - - - "Some blamed him, some believed him good, - - - - The truth lay doubtless 'twixt the two; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "In him the grave and playful mixed, - - - - And wisdom held with folly truce, #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "He loved his friends, forgave his foes; - - - - And, if his words were harsh at times, - - - - He spared his fellow-men,--his blows #NAME? - - - - "He loved the good and wise, but found #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "Whate'er his neighbors might endure - - - - Of pain or grief his own became; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "His good was mainly an intent, - - - - His evil not of forethought done; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "Ill served his tides of feeling strong - - - - To turn the common mills of use; - - - - And, over restless wings of song, - - - - His birthright garb hung loose! - - - - "His eye was beauty's powerless slave, - - - - And his the ear which discord pains; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "He had his share of care and pain, - - - - No holiday was life to him; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "Yet Heaven was kind, and here a bird - - - - And there a flower beguiled his way; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "On all his sad or restless moods - - - - The patient peace of Nature stole; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "He worshipped as his fathers did, - - - - And kept the faith of childish days, - - - - And, howsoe'er he strayed or slid, #NAME? - - - - "The simple tastes, the kindly traits, - - - - The tranquil air, and gentle speech, #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "The cant of party, school, and sect, - - - - Provoked at times his honest scorn, - - - - And Folly, in its gray respect, - - - - He tossed on satire's horn. - - - - "But still his heart was full of awe - - - - And reverence for all sacred things; - - - - And, brooding over form and law,' - - - - He saw the Spirit's wings! - - - - "Life's mystery wrapt him like a cloud; - - - - He heard far voices mock his own, - - - - The sweep of wings unseen, the loud, #NAME? - - - - "The arrows of his straining sight - - - - Fell quenched in darkness; priest and sage, - - - - Like lost guides calling left and right, #NAME? - - - - "Like childhood, listening for the sound - - - - Of its dropped pebbles in the well, #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "So, scattering flowers with pious pains - - - - On old beliefs, of later creeds, - - - - Which claimed a place in Truth's domains, #NAME? - - - - "He saw the old-time's groves and shrines - - - - In the long distance fair and dim; - - - - And heard, like sound of far-off pines, - - - - The century-mellowed hymn! - - - - "He dared not mock the Dervish whirl, - - - - The Brahmin's rite, the Lama's spell; - - - - God knew the heart; Devotion's pearl #NAME? - - - - "While others trod the altar stairs - - - - He faltered like the publican; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "For, awed by Sinai's Mount of Law, - - - - The trembling faith alone sufficed, #NAME? - - - - The sweet, sad face of Christ! - - - - "And listening, with his forehead bowed, #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? - - - - "The words he spake, the thoughts he penned, - - - - Are mortal as his hand and brain, - - - - But, if they served the Master's end, - - - - He has not lived in vain!" - - - - Heaven make thee better than thy name, - - - - Child of my friends!--For thee I crave #NAME? #NAME? - - - - I pray the prayer of Plato old: - - - - God make thee beautiful within, #NAME? - - - - In everything save sin! #NAME? - - - - To serve, not rule, thy poised mind; #NAME? #NAME? - - - - No dreamer thou, but real all,-- - - - - Strong manhood crowning vigorous youth; #NAME? #NAME? #NAME? - - - - Which trees of healing only give, #NAME? - - - - Of God, forever live! - - - - 1853.