After this Andrew never left Sinverness; but, the past unsighed for and the future sure, passed through
"——an old age serene and bright,
And lovely as a Lapland night,"
until, one summer evening, he gently fell on that sleep which God giveth his beloved.
"For such Death's portal opens not in gloom,
But its pure crystal, hinged on solid gold,
Shows avenues interminable—shows
Amaranth and palm quivering in sweet accord
Of human mingled with angelic song."