William Gilmore Simms (1806–1870)

IT is the error of the impatient heart

To hope undying gifts, even while the strife

Is worst; and struggling ’gainst its mortal part,

The glorious Genius laboring still for life,

Springs even from death to birth! ’T is from his tomb

The amaranth rises which must wreathe his brow,

And crown his memory with unfading bloom;

Rooted in best affections, it will grow,

Though watered by sad tears, and watched by pride

Made humble in rejection! Love denied,

Shall tend it through all seasons, and shall give

Her never-failing tenderness,—though still

Be the proud spirit, and the unyielding will,

That through the mortal made the immortal live!