The memory of the just survives in Heaven.

Bright gem instinct with music, vocal spark.

Wisdom sits with children round her knees.

Therefore am I still a lover of the meadows and the woods, and mountains; and of all that we behold from this green earth.

Wisdom and spirit of the Universe!

Ah, what a warning for a thoughtless man, Could field or grove, could any spot of earth, Show to his eye an image of the pangs Which it hath witnessed,-render back an echo Of the sad steps by which it hath been trod!

'T is hers to pluck the amaranthine flower Of faith, and round the sufferer's temples bind Wreaths that endure affliction's heaviest shower, And do not shrink from sorrow's keenest wind.