Still beautiful in this thy rest so deep,
Thy final wish fulfill'd, we see thy face
Calm as in life, with not a marring trace
Of the swift blow, which calls thy friends to weep.
What hosts of mighty dead around thee keep
On these rich-loaded shelves their silent place?――
"Farewell, companions lov'd; like your's my race
Is run; tomorrow in the ground I sleep."――
What would he teach us, living, by this scene?――
Books! books! are earth's invaluable lights;
Treasures of truth, the richest gifts terrene,
Left by fled spirits in their upward flights!
And what does man demand, in age and youth,
But heav'n-descended, heav'nward-guiding TRUTH?