To-day, beside Potomac's wave,
Beneath Virginia's sky,
They slay the man who loved the slave,
And dared for him to die.
The Pilgrim Fathers' earnest creed,
Virginia's ancient faith,
Inspired this hero's noblest deed,
And his reward is—Death!
Great Washington's indignant shade
For ever urged him on—
He heard from Monticello's glade
The voice of Jefferson.
But chiefly on the Hebrew page
He read Jehovah's law,
And this from youth to hoary age
Obeyed with love and awe.
No selfish purpose armed his hand,
No passion aimed his blow;
How loyally he loved his land,
Impartial Time shall show.
But now the faithful martyr dies,
His brave heart beats no more,
His soul ascends the equal skies,
His earthly course is o'er.
For this we mourn, but not for him,—
Like him in God we trust;
And though our eyes with tears are dim,
We know that God is just.