Do we indeed desire the dead Should still be near us at our side ? Is there no baseness we would hide ? No inner vileness that we dread ? How many a father have I seen A sober man, among his boys Whose youth was full of foolish noise.

And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love And kiss again with tears!

The mighty hopes that make us men.

Arise, go forth, and conquer as of old.

Of happy men that have the power to die, And grassy barrows of the happier dead.

A daughter of the gods, divinely tall, And most divinely fair.

The dream Dreamed by a happy man, when the dark East, Unseen, is brightening to his bridal morn.