Like the snow-wreath of the morning, full soon they fled away!
And fit it is it should be so; their mission here was brief
’Mid the blighting and the bitterness of Earth’s unquiet grief;
So their hands were meekly folded, and closed their dreamful eyes,
And they passed in stainless innocence to dwell beyond the skies!
VI.
I am dreaming, I am dreaming of the lordly minds of old,
Whose ‘winged-words’ of power had once like glorious music rolled;
Lofty intellects that kindled as a far-off beacon flame,
Sending down the stream of ages the light of deathless fame;