'Tis not when we look on the dreamless dead, And feel that the spirit forever has fled; 'Tis not when we're called to the voiceless tomb By the loved who were culled in their brightest bloom;...
"Thou great First Cause," Creator, King, and Lord, The worm that breathed at Thy commanding word, And dies whene'er Thou wilt, presumptuous man, Has dared the mazes of Thy path to scan;...
When our bosoms were lightest, And day-dreams were brightest, The gay vision melted away; By sorrow 'twas shaded, Too quickly it faded; How transient its halcyon sway! ...