A. B. A. Lines Written by Louisa M. Alcott to Her Father

    Like Bunyan's pilgrim with his pack,
    Forth went the dreaming youth
    To seek, to find, and make his own
    Wisdom, virtue, and truth.
    Life was his book, and patiently
    He studied each hard page;
    By turns reformer, outcast, priest,
    Philosopher and sage.

    Christ was his Master, and he made
    His life a gospel sweet;
    Plato and Pythagoras in him
    Found a disciple meet.
    The noblest and best his friends,
    Faithful and fond, though few;
    Eager to listen, learn, and pay
    The love and honor due.

    Power and place, silver and gold,
    He neither asked nor sought;
    Only to serve his fellowmen,
    With heart and word and thought.
    A pilgrim still, but in his pack
    No sins to frighten or oppress;
    But wisdom, morals, piety,
    To teach, to warn and bless.

    The world passed by, nor cared to take
    The treasure he could give;
    Apart he sat, content to wait
    And beautifully live;
    Unsaddened by long, lonely years
    Of want, neglect, and wrong,
    His soul to him a kingdom was,
    Steadfast, serene, and strong.

    Magnanimous and pure his life,
    Tranquil its happy end;
    Patience and peace his handmaids were,
    Death an immortal friend.
    For him no monuments need rise,
    No laurels make his pall;
    The mem'ry of the good and wise
    Outshines, outlives them all.