Soft by her tomb let musing Fancy move!
Let not a sound of thoughtlessness molest
The melancholy spot of her eternal rest!
Her fair form sank low in the gloomy earth—
Her spirit soared and found a brighter home,
Where now with sun-bright smiles, she wanders forth,
Beneath the glories of a heavenly dome;
Where Seraphs o'er bright fields forever roam,
And flowers aloft Life's never dying tree,
Whither no evil thing can ever come;