48.
Perhaps some day some abler hand will string
The lyre to loftier, clearer, sweeter tones,
And of Man's joyous destiny will sing,
And o'er the earth its thrilling echoes fling,
Waking responsive feeling in the zones,
While listening from my spirit mansion I—
Who long since in the ashes left my bones—
Will smiling hear the notes that rise on high,
And fill with rapturous music the o'ervaulting sky.
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as possible.