JOSEPH WINLOCK

Shy soul and stalwart, man of patient will Through years one hair's-breadth on our Dark to gain, Who, from the stars he studied not in vain, Had learned their secret to be strong and still, Careless of fames that earth's tin trumpets fill; Born under Leo, broad of build and brain, While others slept, he watched in that hushed fane Of Science, only witness of his skill: Sudden as falls a shooting-star he fell, But inextinguishable his luminous trace In mind and heart of all that knew him well. Happy man's doom! To him the Fates were known Of orbs dim hovering on the skirts of space, Unprescient, through God's mercy, of his own!