The Dead are like the stars by day; Withdrawn from mortal eye, But not extinct, they hold their way In glory through the sky.

Who that hath ever been Could bear to be no more? Yet who would tread again the scene He trod through life before?

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

Eternity: a moment standing still for ever.

When the good man yields his breath (For the good man never dies).

Blue thou art, intensely blue; Flower, whence came thy dazzling hue?

Songs of praise the angels sang, Heav'n with alleluias rang, when creation was begun, when God spoke and it was done.