Ode by C. Constantine Pise.
To Charles Carroll, of Carrollton, on his 90th Birthday--Baltimore Gazette Sept 20[,] 1827.
translated by Neilson Poe, Sept 22, 1827.
Will we be asked by whose immortal hand
Was wreathed the crown I offer now to thee?
Last Relic of that all unequalled band!
Was it thy guardian genius; Liberty?
Thy Country's Deity shall round thy brow
A wreath of olive and of laurel bind
And all the fairest flowers on earth that grow
Shall be with them in harmony entwined.
As Ivy clasps the aged elm around
And breathes abroad a sweetly mild perfume
So shall the chaplet on thy temples bound
Flourish forever in perennial bloom
Sublime thou lingerest still in this our sphere,
Like some lone landmark on the deserts' waste
And Oh! While yet thy spirit hovers here
May'st thou of earth its purest pleasures taste
Thy sun in setting, but the mellow light
Of evening gilds the heavens from pole to pole:
Thy day is passing into transient night,
For moon shall dawn far brighter on thy Soul.
N. P.
Sept: 22, 1827