Life to the brave is not its fleeting breath,
But worth--foretasting fame that follows death.
That worth had Laperouse, that meed he won.
He sleeps--his life's long stormy watch is done.
In the great deep, whose boundaries and space
He measured, fate ordained his resting place;
But bade his fame, like th' ocean rolling o'er
His relics, visit every earthly shore.
Fair Science on that ocean's azure robe
Still writes his name in picturing the globe,
And paints (what fairer wreath could glory twine?)
His watery course--a world-encircling line. 

End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of Laperouse, by Ernest Scott