A radiance lightens from his eye, too lovely for the tomb,
Too living, for the shadowy realm where all is grief and gloom.
They tell me he will surely die—and so at last must all;
I know that the Destroyer’s blight on all mankind must fall;
Alas! that we of mortal birth thus hurry to decay,
And all we fondly cherish here must fleet so fast away!
But oh, not now! it is indeed a fearful sight to see
The pangs of death their shadows fling on one so dear to me;
Nay, speak not of another world, I only think of this,
I have no heart to nurse the hope that looks to future bliss.