Love the inmate, not the room,
Love the wearer, not the plume!
"Love my spirit, not the bars,
That kept your May-Bell from the stars;
Be wise, dear one, and quickly dry
From every tear your laden eye.
"What you place upon the bier
Is not worth a lover's tear;
'Tis an empty shell at last,
Out of which the soul has passed.
"The shell is broken, it lies there,
But the pearl, the soul, is here!
'Tis an earthen jar, whose lid
God sealed when it faintly hid
"The soul He made to live on high;
The mind that did not, cannot die.
Let the dross be earth's once more,
Since the gold is in His store.
"God is glorious! God is good!
Now His word is understood!