The Student Gone.

A poem by Hattie Howard

So soon he fell, the world will never know
What possibilities within him lay,
What hopes irradiated his young life,
With high ambition and with ardor rife;
But ah! the speedy summons came, and so
He passed away.

So soon he fell, there lie unfinished plans
By others misapplied, misunderstood;
And doors are barred that wait the master-key -
That wait his magic Open Sesame! -
To that assertive power that commands
The multitude.

Too soon he fell! Was he not born to prove
What manhood and integrity might be -
How one from all base elements apart
Might walk serene, in purity of heart,
His face the bright transparency of love
And sympathy?

The student ranks are closed, there is no gap;
Of other brave aspirants is no dearth;
Prowess, fidelity, and truth go on,
And few shall miss or mourn the student gone,
Reposing in the all-protecting lap
Of Mother Earth.

Too soon - O God! was it thy will that one
Of such endeavor and of noble mien,
Enrapt with living, should thus early go
From all he loved and all who loved him so,
Mid life's activities no longer known,
No longer seen?

Oh, not for aye should agonizing lips
Quiver with questionings they dare not frame;
Though in the dark penumbra of despair
Seemeth no light, nor comfort anywhere -
All things enshadowed as in dense eclipse,
No more the same.

Could we but know, in that Elysian lore
Of happy exercise still going on
Could we but know of glorious heights attained,
Of his reward, of mysteries explained, -
Ah! but to know were to lament no more
The student gone.

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