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Not dead? A marble seal is prest, Where her bright glance did part, A weight is on the pulseless breast, And ice around the heart; No more she wakes with greeting smile, Gay voice, and buoyant tread, But yet ye calmly say the while, She sleeps, she is not dead.

"Mourn'st thou for clay alone?" Behold A voice from Heaven replied, "Then be thine anguish uncontrol'd,    Thy tears a heathen tide; Thine idol was that vestment fair     Which wraps the spirit free, Earth, air and water claim their share,     Say! which shall comfort thee?

But the strong mind whose heaven-born thought No earthly chain could bind, The holy heart divinely fraught With love to all mankind, The humble soul whose early trust Was with its God on high, These were thy Sister, who in dust May sleep, but cannot die."