Like ships, that sailed for sunny isles,
But never came to shore!
JAMES ALDRICH.
A Death-Bed.
Her suffering ended with the day,
Yet lived she at its close,
And breathed the long, long night away,
In statue-like repose!
But when the sun, in all his state,
Illumined the eastern skies,
She passed through Glory's morning gate,
And walked in Paradise.
WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT.
Thanatopsis.
To him who in the love of Nature holds
Communion with her visible forms, she speaks
A various language.