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II.

The old will love him as a friend;

The young in sacred memory bend,

For that Seat of Learning grand,

Now given them by Stanford's hand

All creeds and nations call him great

Noble benefactor of the State.

From his cold and lifeless clay,

His noble soul has flown away,

To find the golden progress grand,

In heaven's own celestial land!

Tho' 'mong Angel hosts he'll be,

His greatest care will be for thee.

Lighten thy brow my dear bereaved one,

And think of the joy of father and son

A meeting to part no more,

In the light from that lovely Shore

Will bring their love and strength to thee,

And ere a source of happiness be.