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Oh, happy if to them the one dread hour, Made known its lessons from a brow like thine! If all their knowledge of the spoiler's power, Came by a look so tranquilly divine! Let him who thus hath seen the lovely part, Hold well that image to his thoughtful heart!

But thou, fair slumberer!—was there less of woe, Or love, or terror, in the days of old, That men poured out their gladdening spirits flow, Like sunshine, on the desolate and cold? And gave thy semblance to the shadowy king, Who for deep souls had then a deeper sting?

In the dark bosom of the earth they laid Far more than we, for loftier faith is ours; Their gems were lost in ashes—yet they made The grave a place of beauty and of flowers; With fragrant wreaths and summer-boughs arrayed And lovely sculpture gleaming through the shade.