Two roses on one slender spray In sweet communion grew, Together hailed the morning ray And drank the evening dew.

The Dead are like the stars by day; Withdrawn from mortal eye, But not extinct, they hold their way In glory through the sky.

Two roses on one slender spray In sweet communion grew, Together hailed the morning ray And drank the evening dew.

Here hyacinths of heavenly blue, shook their rich tresses to the morn.

Night is the time to weep,To wet with unseen tearsThose graves of memory where sleepThe joys of other years.

Prayer is the soul's sincere desire, Uttered or unexpressed, The motion of a hidden fire That trembles in the breast. Prayer is the burden of a sigh, The falling of a tear, The upward glancing of an eye When none but God is near.

When evening closes Nature's eye, The glow-worm lights her little spark To captivate her favorite fly And tempt the rover through the dark.