I can only remember two lines: Quin deigned a grin, perforce, And Hoar a roar, of course.
He died in 1864 at the age of ninety-two, preserving to the last his mental vigor and his ardent interest in public affairs.
During the darkest period of the War he never lost his hope or faith.

He fell on the ice and broke his hip a little while before his death.

He was treated by the somewhat savage method of the surgery of the time.

Dr.George E.Ellis, from whom I had the story, went to see him one day at his house on Park Street and found the old man lying on his bed with a weight hanging from his foot, which projected over the bed, to keep the bones in their place and the muscles from contracting.

He said to Mr.Quincy's daughter: "You have been shut up here a long time.