That wreathe Death’s altar:—let us weep for them.
But let us dash away the sorrowing tear,
That falls upon the aged sleeper’s grave;
And joy that he has left this sinful world,
And sought a purer and a happier sphere,
Where sorrow never comes, and where no care
Blanches the cheek, and makes the spirit sad;
Where sin hath never entered, to pollute
The perfect sense of happiness; where all
The great and good of earth for ever dwell,