Canto CXI

'Tis held that sorrow makes us wise;

      Yet how much wisdom sleeps with thee

      Which not alone had guided me,

But served the seasons that may rise;

For can I doubt who knew thee keen

      In intellect, with force and skill

      To strive, to fashion, to fulfil—

I doubt not what thou wouldst have been:

A life in civic action warm,

      A soul on highest mission sent,

      A potent voice of Parliament,

A pillar steadfast in the storm,

Should licensed boldness gather force,

      Becoming, when the time has birth,

      A lever to uplift the earth

And roll it in another course,

With many shocks that come and go,

      With agonies, with energies,

      With overthrowings, and with cries,

And undulations to and fro.