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 * All beautiful in naked purity,

The perfect semblance of its bodily frame. Instinct with inexpressible beauty and grace,
 * Each stain of earthliness
 * Had passed away, it reassumed
 * Its native dignity, and stood
 * Immortal amid ruin.


 * Upon the couch the body lay
 * Wrapt in the depth of slumber:
 * Its features were fixed and meaningless,
 * Yet animal life was there,
 * And every organ yet performed
 * Its natural functions: 'twas a sight

Of wonder to behold the body and soul.
 * The self-same lineaments, the same
 * Marks of identity were there:

Yet, oh, how different! One aspires to Heaven, Pants for its sempiternal heritage, And ever-changing, ever-rising still,
 * Wantons in endless being.

The other, for a time the unwilling sport Of circumstance and passion, struggles on; Fleets through its sad duration rapidly: Then like an useless and worn-out machine,
 * Rots, perishes, and passes.


 * Spirit! who hast dived so deep;
 * Spirit! who hast soared so high;