Shall Man be for ever by tempests oppress'd,
By the tempests of passion, of sorrow, and pain?
Ah, no! for his passions and sorrow shall cease
When the troublesome fever of life shall be o'er;
In the night of the grave he shall slumber in peace,
And passion and sorrow shall vex him no more.
And shall not this night and its long dismal gloom,
Like the night of the tempest, again pass away?
Yes! the dust of the earth in bright beauty shall bloom,
And rise to the morning of heavenly day!