MY days among the Dead are past;   Around me I behold, Where'er these casual eyes are cast,   The mighty minds of old: My never-failing friends are they, With whom I converse day by day.

With them I take delight in weal   And seek relief in woe; And while I understand and feel   How much to them I owe, My cheeks have often been bedew'd With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

My thoughts are with the Dead; with them   I live in long-past years, Their virtues love, their faults condemn,   Partake their hopes and fears; And from their lessons seek and find Instruction with an humble mind.

My hopes are with the Dead; anon   My place with them will be, And I with them shall travel on   Through all Futurity; Yet leaving here a name, I trust, That will not perish in the dust.