Xxi

Upon the Earth what hints are rife, Of life when change hath left us still! When death within us doth fulfil Its end, whose part is one with life! What hints, which tell us not alone Immortal is the spirit, for Flesh too,--corruption can but mar,-- The incorruptible puts on.

The blood but fills a part that’s higher Of color, and pervades all flowers; The brain informs the twinkling hours With dreams of resurrected fire; The heart performs the function of A fragrance; and the countenance Lends new expression to, perchance, The face of beauty that we love.