Classic Poem

Close the dim eyes, for expression hath left them;
Arrange the limp hands, ere stiffness ensue;
Cover her o'er, with a cloth of pure whiteness;
Reverence her clay, it is all we can do.

Never again shall those calm lips be parted,
Displaying the pearl in the sunshine of mirth;
Never those dim eyes in sympathy kindle,
Nature hath claimed her dust for the earth.

Ever her image is bright in our vision,
Recalling so vividly, days that are fled;
Days, when her light step, her smile, and her beauty,
Seemed more for the living, than marked for the dead.

Short was her day — so early she faded;
Sank as the sun sinks, behind a great hill —
And, though his grand form is lost to the vision,
The light of his splendor is lingering still.

Long may the light of her splendor be with us —
Spreading a balm, that shall soothe ev'ry breast;
Soon may we muse on her, with resignation;
Saying, " Amen" to her summons to rest.