And read that God and Nature made him so;
Yet that pale temple could not always keep
The soul imprisoned in its earthly bars,
Born for the skies, his god-like soul doth sweep
The boundless circle of the radiant stars.
How soft the placid smiles that seemed to bask
Round those pale features once the spirit’s shrine
And hover round those lips that only ask
A second impress from the hand divine!
And look upon that brow! a living light