Soft tears from out my eyelids press;
They’re with me through the waking day,
My nightly slumbers gently bless;
And still I pause in mortal fear,
For life is sweet—and death is drear.
My faithful friends whose gentle deeds
Of kindness words were poor to tell;
My daily walks, my favorite flowers,
The page where genius throws its spell,
And Nature with its varied hues,