“Sleep thou in peace! Beyond the funeral pyre,
There live no flames of vengeance or of ire;
And midst high hearts I leave thee, on a shore
Where mercy’s home hath been from days of yore.”
Thus to its earthly form the spirit cried,
Then turn’d to follow its celestial guide;
But with a downcast mien, a pensive sigh,
A lingering step, and oft reverted eye—
As when a child’s reluctant feet obey
Its mother’s voice, and slowly leave its play.