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 For her beauty the Sea-Nymphs offended,

Because so surpassingly fair;

And so death then the precious life ended

Of my beautiful —

Of my Heaven-born —

Of my star-crowned —

Of my beautiful, dutiful.

From her Paradise-Isles in the ocean,

To the beautiful City of On,

By the mellifluent rivers of Goshen,

My beautiful Lily is gone!

In her Chariot of Fire translated,

Like Elijah, she passed through the air,

To the City of God golden-gated—

The Home of my —

Of my star-crowned —

Of my God-loved —

Of my beautiful, dutiful.

On the vista-path made by the Angels,

In her Chariot of Fire, she rode,

While the Cherubim sang their Evangels—

To the Gates of the City of God.

For the Cherubim-band that went with her,

I saw them pass out of the air—

I saw them go up through the ether

Into Heaven with my —

With my Christ-like —

With my God-loved —

With my beautiful, dutiful.