Bliss In Possession Will Not Last; Remembered

When The Good Man Yields His Breath (for The Good Man Never Dies).

Yet Nightly Pitch My Moving Tent, A Day's March Nearer Home.

The Dead Are Like The Stars By Day; Withdrawn From Mortal Eye, But Not Extinct, They Hold Their Way In Glory Through The Sky.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?

When Evening Closes Nature's Eye, The Glow-worm Lights Her Little Spark To Captivate Her Favorite Fly And Tempt The Rover Through The Dark.