Faded the flower and all its budded charms,Faded the sight of beauty from my eyes,Faded the shape of beauty from my arms,Faded the voice, warmth, whiteness, paradise!Vanishd unseasonably

I am sailing with thee through the dizzy sky! How beautiful thou art!

As the Swiss inscription says: Sprechen ist silbern, Schweigen ist golden,- "Speech is silvern, Silence is golden;" or, as I might rather express it, Speech is of Time, Silence is of Eternity.

Already with thee! tender is the night. . . But here there is no light. . .

I shall soon be laid in the quiet grave - thank God for the quiet grave

Pleasure is oft a visitant; but pain Clings cruelly to us.

Death is Life's high meed.