Poetry: The Departed

''Tis weet to believc. of the nbsent wc lovc, If we miss them below.we ehall meel thcm above.' The depnrted! the departed! They visit tis in dreoms; And iheyglide above onr memorie, Like shadows over streams: But where the chcerful lights of home In courtanl UiBtre burn, The depnrted - the departed Can never more return ! Tlie good, the brave, the benutiful- How drenrr.loss is their sleep, Where rolla the dirge-like music Of the ever-toppingf ieep; Or where the mournful winds Pale Winter'8 robe have spread Above their narrow patacen In the cities of the dead! I look nronnd, and feel the nwo Of onc who walks alone Amonp the wrecks of Tonner Iay, In dismal ruin strown; I start to hpar the Btirrinof Kotmds From the leales of withered trees, For the voice of thedepnrfed Seems borne upon the breezc. Thnt soletnn voice! it minóles with Eac.h íay ond enrólese f-train; I ecaroe can thir.k Enrth's minstrelsy Will cheermy heart ngn'in, The glad sonjr of the summer wavci, The thrilling notes of bird, Can nrver bc so denr to me Ab :lieir remembered words. I somefimes dream their p'easant Ftniles Stül on me sweefly fall; Thfir tonos of love 1 fain'Jy hear My nnme in sadness cali: I know thnt ihey nre hnppj', With their nngel plnmnge on; But my hcart is very desolate To think that they are fone!