The Unknown

Ye aspiring ones, listen to the story of the unknown         Who lies here with no stone to mark the place.         As a boy reckless and wanton,         Wandering with gun in hand through the forest         Near the mansion of Aaron Hatfield,         I shot a hawk perched on the top         Of a dead tree. He fell with guttural cry         At my feet, his wing broken.         Then I put him in a cage         Where he lived many days cawing angrily at me         When I offered him food.         Daily I search the realms of Hades         For the soul of the hawk,         That I may offer him the friendship         Of one whom life wounded and caged.         Alexander Throckmorton         In youth my wings were strong and tireless,         But I did not know the mountains.         In age I knew the mountains         But my weary wings could not follow my vision -         Genius is wisdom and youth.