Tread softly,--bow the head,--
In reverent silence bow,--
No passing-bell doth toll,
Yet an immortal soul
Is passing now.
Stranger, however great,
With lowly reverence bow;
There's one in that poor shed--
One by that paltry bed--
Greater than thou.
Beneath that beggar's roof,
Lo! Death doth keep his state.
Enter, no crowds attend;
Enter, no guards defend
_This_ palace gate.
That pavement, damp and cold,
No smiling courtiers tread;
One silent woman stands,
Lifting with meagre hands
A dying head.
No mingling voices sound,--
An infant wail alone;
A sob suppressed,--again
That short deep gasp, and then--
The parting groan.
O change! O wondrous change!
Burst are the prison bars,--
This moment _there_ so low,
So agonized, and now
Beyond the stars.
O change! stupendous change!
There lies the soulless clod;
The sun eternal breaks,
The new immortal wakes,--
Wakes with his God.
_Caroline Bowles Southey._
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