She died in beauty,--like a rose
Blown from its parent stem;
She died in beauty,--like a pearl
Dropped from some diadem.
She died in beauty,--like a lay
Along a moonlit lake;
She died in beauty,--like the song
Of birds amid the brake.
She died in beauty,--like the snow
On flowers dissolved away;
She died in beauty,--like a star
Lost on the brow of day.
She lives in glory,--like night's gems
Set round the silver moon;
She lives in glory,--like the sun
Amid the blue of June.
_Charles Doyne Sillery._
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