Pure joy can never reign, whilst death can part
The loved and the beloved. And as around
That smiling family the Father glanced,
And saw one vacant chair, a tear bedimmed
His eye for his lost daughter. On the brow
Of her fond Mother, resignation sat
In peaceful calm, that gave a purer tone
To every word and look. The lively band
Of sisters and of brothers, though the heart
In youthful freshness hath a buoyant spring,