Classic Poem

I walk the Cliff, in earlier days oft trod
By one whose advent brought new life to men;
A prophet of the soul, speaking again
To earth-bound hearts of the deep things of God.
Below, the passionate sea still beats in vain,
And white sails gleam along the horizon broad;
The same sky bends above—beneath, the sod
As then is freshened by the Summer rain.
But, interfused with all, there shines to-day
A beauty born not of the earth or skies,
Making twice fair what was so fair before:
'Tis that a noble Soul has passed this way,
Leaving a holy memory to rise
And speak to thought and feeling evermore.