So let that parting be in peace:
We've not been angered much in heart,
But e'en that little soon shall cease.
"When you are sleeping with the dead,
The spars we've had I'll not forget:
A warmer heart, or weaker head,
On earth, I'll own, I never met.
"And on your tomb inscribed shall be,
In letters of your favorite brass,
Here lies, O Lord! we grieve to see,