Classic Poem

What is death? 'Tis to be free,
—No more to love or hope or fear,
To join the great equality;
—All, all alike are humbled there.
——The mighty grave
——Wraps lord and slave;
Nor pride nor poverty dares come
Within that refuge-house,—the tomb.

Spirit with the drooping wing
—And the ever-weeping eye,
Thou of all earth's kings art king;
—Empires at thy footstool lie;
——Beneath thee strewed,
——Their multitude
Sink like waves upon the shore;
Storms shall never raise them more.

What's the grandeur of the earth
—To the grandeur round thy throne?
Riches, glory, beauty, birth,
—To thy kingdom all have gone.
——Before thee stand
——The wondrous band,—
Bards, heroes, sages, side by side,
Who darkened nations when they died.

Earth has hosts, but thou canst show
—Many a million for her one;
Through thy gates the mortal flow
—Hath for countless years rolled on.
——Back from the tomb
——No step has come,
There fixed till the last thunder's sound
Shall bid thy prisoners be unbound.