For whilst thy loss our keenest sorrow moves,
O’er all the past, delighted fancy roves;
Each fond remembrance that reverts to thee,
Tells what our present conduct ought to be;
And points, with heavenward aim, to that Dread Power,
Whose mystic means unfolds the future hour;
Cheers the dark gloom of life’s last setting ray,
And leads us on to everlasting day!