CHAPTER XIII.
IN December, 1882, a promising young poet, whose life was cut short in early manhood, James Berry Bensell, wrote this touching sonnet to the older poet, who had given him aid and encouragement:
TO JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY.
As when a man along piano keys
Trails a slow hand, and then with touch grown bold
Strikes pealing chords, by some great master old
Woven into a gem of melodies.
All full of summer and the shout of seas,—
So do thy rhythmic songs my soul enfold.
First some sweet love-note, full as it can hold
Of daintiness, comes like the hum of bees;
Then, rising grandly, thou dost sound a chord
That rings and clamors in the heart of hearts,
And dying as receding waves, departs
Leaving us richer by a lusty hoard
Of noble thoughts.
O poet! would that we
Might strike one note like thine—but just for thee!
I do not know just how many poets of his own time have given formal expression to the grateful love which all who knew him bore toward John Boyle O'Reilly; but among those who dedicated volumes of verses to him were David Proudfit ("Peleg Arkwright"), Loise Imogen Guiney, and Dr. R. D. Joyce.
