On The Death Of M. D'Ossoli And His Wife Margaret Fuller

Over his millions Death has lawful power, But over thee, brave D'Ossoli! none, none. After a longer struggle, in a fight Worthy of Italy, to youth restor'd, Thou, far from home, art sunk beneath the surge Of the Atlantic; on its shore; in reach Of help; in trust of refuge; sunk with all Precious on earth to thee... a child, a wife! Proud as thou wert of her, America Is prouder, showing to her sons how high Swells woman's courage in a virtuous breast. She would not leave behind her those she lov'd: Such solitary safety might become Others; not her; not her who stood beside The pallet of the wounded, when the worst Of France and Perfidy assail'd the walls Of unsuspicious Rome. Rest, glorious soul, Renown'd for strength of genius, Margaret! Rest with the twain too dear! My words are few, And shortly none will hear my failing voice, But the same language with more full appeal Shall hail thee. Many are the sons of song Whom thou hast heard upon thy native plains Worthy to sing of thee: the hour is come; Take we our seats and let the dirge begin.