Ebenezer Rockwood Hoar

ON conscience, as on rock New England’s hills,
His life was built. With reason’s inward sight,
He saw as though from a cold mountain height,
When the white day pure winter’s radiance fills.
Hot with the wrath of justice, against ills
Wrought out of wrong he waged a fearless fight,
And stood unflinching for imperiled right,
Freedom, and country, — one who greatly wills.
Sparkling his wit as beads of foaming wine,
But keen to pierce as pointed rapier blade ;
Tender in heart, wise, cheerful to the end,
To Concord’s soil as native as its vine,
There with most precious dust New England laid
The statesman, jurist, judge, and steadfast friend.