-R Southey
MY days among the dead are past;
Around me I behold.
Where’er these casual eyes are cast,
The mighty minds of old;
My never-failing friends are they,
With whom I converse day by day.
With them I take delight in weal
And seek relief in woe;
And while I understand and feel
How much to them I owe,
My cheeks have often been bedew’d
With tears of thoughtful gratitude.
My thoughts are with the dead: with them
I live in long-past years,
Their virtues love, their faults condemn,
Partake their hopes and fears,
And from their lessons seek and find
Instruction with a humble mind.
My hopes are with the dead: anon
My place with them will be,
And I with them shall travel on
Through all futurity.
Yet leaving here a name, I trust,
That will not perish in the dust.
