At Chappaqua

By Joel Benton (1832–1911)

Horace Greeley died Nov. 29, 1872.

HIS cherished woods are mute. The stream glides down

The hill as when I knew it years ago;

The dark, pine arbor with its priestly gown

Stands hushed, as if our grief it still would show;

The silver springs are cupless, and the flow

Of friendly feet no more bereaves the grass,

For he is absent who was wont to pass

Along this wooded path. His axe’s blow

No more disturbs the impertinent bole or bough;

Nor moves his pen our heedless nation now,

Which, sworn to justice, stirred the people so.

In some far world his much-loved face must glow

With rapture still. This breeze once fanned his brow.

This is the peaceful Mecca all men know!