I see thee still;
Here was thy summer noon's retreat,
This was thy favorite fire-side seat:
This was thy chamber, where, each day,
I sat and watched thy sad decay;
Here on this bed thou last didst lie,
Here, on this pillow, thou didst die!
Dark hour! once more its woes unfold-
As then I saw thee pale and cold,
I see thee still!

I see thee still:
Thou art not in the tomb confined,
Death cannot claim the immortal mind.
Let earth close o'er its sacred trust,
Yet goodness dies not in the dust.
Thee, O my Sister, 'tis not thee,
Beneath the coffin's lid I see;
Thou to a fairer land art gone-
There let me hope, my journey done,
To see thee still!

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