From the fierce wave the god's celestial wing
Rapt thee aloft along the yielding air;
With amaranths fresh from heaven's eternal spring,
Bright Cupra[13] braids thy hair,
Ah, in those halls for us thou wilt not mourn,
Far are the Æsars' joys from human woe:
But not the less forsaken and forlorn
Those thou hast left below!
Never, oh never more, shall we behold thee,
The last spark dies upon the sacred hearth;
Art thou less lost, though heavenly arms enfold thee—
Art thou less lost to earth?
Slow swells the sorrowing Næniæ's chanted strain:
Time, with slow flutes, our leaden footsteps keep;
Sad earth, whate'er the happier heaven may gain,
Hath but a loss to weep.
THE CHRISTIAN FUNERAL HYMN
Sing we Halleluiah—singing
Halleluiah to the Three;
Where, vain Death, oh, where thy stinging?
Where, O Grave, thy victory?
As a sun a soul hath risen,
Rising from a stormy main;
When a captive breaks the prison,
Who but slaves would mourn the chain
Fear for age subdued by trial,
Heavy with the years of sin:
When the sunlight leaves the dial,
And the solemn shades begin;—
Not for youth!—although the bosom
With a sharper grief be wrung;
For the May wind strews the blossom,
And the angel takes the young!
Saved from sins, while yet forgiven;—
From the joys that lead astray,
From the earth at war with heaven,
Soar, O happy soul, away!