Despite the hopeful signs our hearts misleading,

Death cometh after all!

Over the brightest scenes are clouds descending;

The flame soars highest ere its deepest fall;

The glorious day has all too swift an ending:

Night cometh after all!

O’er bloom or beauty now in our possession

Is seen the shadow of the funeral pall;

Though Love and Life make tearful intercession,

Death cometh after all!—Harper’s Weekly.