That He they sought had triumph’d and was gone.
Now have ye left us for the brighter shore;
Your presence lights the lonely groves no more.
But may ye not, unseen, around us hover,
With gentle promptings and sweet influence yet.
Though the fresh glory of those days be over,
When, midst the palm-trees, man your footsteps met?
Are ye not near when faith and hope rise high,
When love, by strength, o’ermasters agony?
Are ye not near when sorrow, unrepining,