Can nothing break thy sepulchre of rest?
Once thy heart throbbed with human motion keen,
Thy folded hands with others warmly pressed,
Thy close-sealed lips have sweetly spoke or sung—
Now an eternity is not more dumb!
The organ peels around thee its deep notes;
But thou art deaf to music’s noblest strains.
A glory of rich hues about thee floats;
Thou car’st not for the splendor of bright panes.
What fateful storms and changes hast thou seen!