Lines on the Death of John Quincy Adams

THE great, the good, the just, the true,

   Has yielded up his latest breath;

The noblest man our country knew,

   Bows to the ghastly monster, Death;

The son of one whose deathless name

   Stands first on history's brightest page;

The hightest on the list of fame

   As statesman, patriot, and sage.

In early youth he learned to prize

   The freedom which his father won;

The mantle of the patriot sire

   Descended on his mightier son.

Science her deepest hidden lore

   Beneath his potent touch revealed;

Philosophy's abundant store,

   Alike his mighty mind could wield.

The brilliant page of poetry

   Received additons from his pen,

Of holy truth and purity,

   And thoughts which rouse the souls of men,

Eloquence did his heart inspire,

   And from his lips in glory blazed,

Till nations caught the glowing fire,

   And senates trembled as they praised.

While all the recreant of the land

   To slavery's idol bowed the knee-

A fawning, sycophantic band,

   Fit tools of petty tyranny-

He stood amid the recreant throng,

   The chosen champion of the free,

And battled fearlessly and long

   For justice, right, and liberty.

What though grim Death has sealed his doom

   Who faithful proved to God and us;

And slavery, o'er the patriot's tomb

   Exulting pours its deadlist curse?

Among the virtuous and free

   His memory will ever live;

Champion of right and liberty,

   The blessings, truth and virtue give.

James Monroe Whitfield

List of Poems by James Monroe Whitfield