A Brother dear hath mingled with the dust!
A true Oddfellow,-brethren, was he not
True to his Order-faithful to its trust?
If he had failings, let them be forgot!
If there's a world where good men may be blest,
Then safely may we say his soul is gone to rest.

A tender father, and a faithful spouse;
A politician of the sager sort,
With him, reform begins at your own house,
Nor endeth till it touch the Sovereign's court.
His motto was, to benefit mankind,
Nor in the race of life himself be left behind.

He dwelt amongst us, and we did not deem
That darksome Death would sever us so soon;
His barque went down when midway o'er Life's stream,
As though the summer sun should set at noon.
Weep, brothers weep! shed one fraternal tear
Upon his tomb, to whom our Order was so dear.