The only emblems meet for thee.
Thy grave shall be a blessed shrine,
Adorn’d with Nature’s brightest wreath;
Each glowing season shall combine
Its incense there to breathe;
And oft, upon the midnight air,
Shall viewless harps be murmuring there.
And oh! sometimes in visions blest,
Sweet spirit! visit our repose;
And bear, from thine own world of rest,