EPILOGUE

From out the golden dawn of vanished years

She glides into my dreams, a form divine

Of light and love, to soothe the thoughts that pine

For what has been, to stem the tide of tears

That inward flows upon the heart and sears

Its inmost core. Her countenance benign,

Where Love and Pity's chastened graces shine,

Reflects the hallowed light of other spheres.

Then to my anguished soul, with care outworn,

Comes, like a strain on aerial wings upborne,

This message from her soul:—‘ Bid sorrow cease;

Love dies not;—‘ tis th’ immortal life above.

And chastened souls, that win eternal peace

Through earthly suff'ring, know that Heaven is Love!’