Although thy pen was silent, mute,
A sea of knowledge dire
In thee the world of yore had seized
Thy voice was Spirit's fire
All wealth and ease of the world sublime
Thy deeds were apt to disdain
Therefore thy spouse, Xantippe
Was tortured by a ceaseless pain.
Many a foe of giant cloud
Against thy knowledge stood.
But gloom saw its doom in thee,
With thee thy high manhood.