Gone!

He wanted a trifle of freedom,
A trifle of breathing space,
Room for a man to stand in,
Room for a living race.

Pent and stifled, and thwarted,
Prisoned from sea to sea,
God to him has been gracious--
Burst are his bonds, he is free!

Now may you read his story
On the face upturned to the sky;
“A young man sick of living,
And a strong man glad to die!”