How Low, How Little Are The Proud,

Ah, Happy Hills! Ah, Pleasing Shade! Ah, Fields Beloved In Vain! Where Once My Careless Childhood Stray'd, A Stranger Yet To Pain! I Feel The Gales That From Ye Blow A Momentary Bliss Bestow.

Dear As The Light That Visits These Sad Eyes, Dear As The Ruddy Drops That Warm My Heart.

And Truth Severe, By Fairy Fiction Drest.

Fair Laughs The Morn, And Soft The Zephyr Blows, While Proudly Rising O'er The Azure Realm In Gallant Trim The Gilded Vessel Goes, Youth On The Prow, And Pleasure At The Helm.

Low On His Funeral Couch He Lies!