I will not mourn thee; when thou art not here,
Yet is thy influence present to my heart;
I will not moisten more wet memory’s bier,
Only some flowers shall play my saddening part;
Full well I know that, bursting distance’s chains,
A guardian angel, thou’lt attend my ways;
And I shall hear thee in the loftiest strains
That wake this world to muse on grander days:
A voice, whose silence is more strong than storms,
Shall conquer midnight in its soothing power;
The golden stars, from out their mazy swarms,
Chime with innumerous tongues the passing hour!
Nature’s epitome and Nature’s crown!
Replete with thee heaven’s minstrels murmur down.