And one high tone of triumph o’er thy bier,
One strain of solemn rapture, be allow’d!
Thou, that rejoicing on thy mid career,
Not to decay, but unto death hast bow’d,
In those bright regions of the rising sun,
Where victory ne’er a crown like thine had won.
Praise! for yet one more name with power endow’d
To cheer and guide us, onward as we press;
Yet one more image on the heart bestow’d
To dwell there, beautiful in holiness!