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Он, lightly, lightly tread

Upon these early ashes, ye that weep

For her that slumbers in the dreamless sleep,

Of this eternal bed!

Hallow her humble tomb

With your kind sorrow, ye that knew her well, And climbed with her youth's brief but brilliant dell, 'Mid sunlight and fair bloom.

Glad voices whispered round.

As from the stars,- bewildering harmonies,
And visions of sweet beauty filled the skies,
And the wide vernal ground

With hopes like blossoms shone :

Oh, vainly these shall glow, and vainly wreathe
Verdure for the veiled bosom, that may breathe

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Yet weep not for the dead

That in the glory of green youth do fall,
Ere phrenzied passion or foul sin one thrall
Upon their souls hath spread.

Weep not! They are at rest

From misery, and madness, and all strife,

That makes but night of day, and death of life,
In the grave's peaceful breast.

Nor ever more shall come

To them the breath of envy, nor the rankling eye Shall follow them, where side by side they lie Defenceless, noiseless, dumb.


though their memory's green,

In the fond heart, where love for them was born, With sorrow's silent dews, each eve, each morn,

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Yet weep not! They shall soar

As the freed eagle of the skies, that pined,
But pines no more, for his own mountain wind,
And the old ocean-shore.

Rejoice! rejoice! How long

Should the faint spirit wrestle with its clay,

Fluttering in vain for the far cloudless day,
And for the angel's song?

It mounts! it mounts!

The banner of gay victory—and sing

For the enfranchised

Oh, spread

and bright garlands bring

But weep not for the dead!


I WILL remember thee; thy form will be
Mingled with lingering images of all

That gave those lost hours wings of bliss to me,
When, arm and arm, we wandered where the fall
Of this, thy river's radiant fountains made
The sunset-silence musical, under its fringing shade.

I will remember thee, with loveliest bloom
Of early roses, such as these thy hand
Culled for me in the grave-yard's flowery gloom,

(Where rest thy sister's ashes, in the land.

Of dark and long oblivion ;) likest thee,

Their bursting, blushing charms, and therefore dear to me.

I will remember thee, when woods, as now,

O'ershadow me at noontide; and the sweet Breathings of virgin violets, as pure as thou,

No purer, from dim moss-banks of the hill-side greet Me in the weary wanderings, 'mid the trees.

Of mine own father-clime - to 'mind me but of these.

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I'll think of thee with streamlets; and green leaves
Shall murmur of thee; and the fairest star
That shines above me, as mild evening weaves
Her round pavillon in its splendor - far,

But not forgotten will I sadly choose

To link with thoughts of thee, when most I love to muse.

I will remember thee, in coming days,

When I may tread the stranger's lonely shore, And ponder upon old temples in the haze

Of twilight-where the mighty are no more (Though still the soil teems richly with the pride Of buried greatness, and the skies are dyed

With hues of gone-down glory :) even then,
And there, the memory of the loveliness
That cheered this solitude, may cheer again-
The echo of past pleasure and thy grace
Bless me in all things; lady, on the sea
Or land, in joy or anguish, I'll remember thee!





* Thou knowest well

The work that is before thee, and the joys
That are behind. Now, be the past forgot.
The youthful love, the hearth-light and the home,
Song, dance, and story, and the vows- -the vows
That we change not, and part not unto death -
Yea, all the spirit of departed bliss,

That even now, like spirits of the dead,

Seen dimly in the living mourner's dreams,

And thrilling, ever and anon, the notes

Long loved of old-O, hear them, heed them not.
Press on for, like the fairies of the tale,
That mocked, unseen, the tempted traveller,
With power alone o'er those who gave them ear,
They would but turn thee from thy high resolve.
Then look not back! O, triumph in the strength
Of an exalted purpose! Eagle-like,
Press sunward on. Thou shalt not be alone.
Have but an eye on God, as surely God

Will have an eye on thee-press on! press on!

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