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Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895.

Pakenham Beatty b. 1855

Charles Lamb

THOUGH our great love a little wrong his fame,

And seeing him with such familiar eyes

We say “how kind” more often than “how wise,”

Such is the simple reverence he would claim;

He would not have us call him by a name

Higher than that of friend,—yet by this grave

We feel the saint not pure, nor hero brave,

And all the martyr’s patience put to shame.

Brother, we leave thee by thy sister’s side;

Whom such a love bound let not death divide;

She is at peace, now, brother, thou canst rest;

Thy long sad guardianship of love is o’er,

And gentle Shakespeare on the dead men’s shore

Salutes thy gentle ghost that praised him best.