Gone!

He wanted a trifle of freedom, A trifle of breathing space, Room for a man to stand in, Room for a living race.

Pent and stifled, and thwarted, Prisoned from sea to sea, God to him has been gracious-- Burst are his bonds, he is free!

Now may you read his story On the face upturned to the sky; “A young man sick of living, And a strong man glad to die!”