Classic Poem

'T IS right for her to sleep between
—Some of those old Cathedral walls,
And right too that her grave is green
—With all the dew and rain that falls.

'Tis well the organ's solemn sighs
—Should soar and sink around her rest,
And almost in her ear should rise
—The prayers of those she loved the best.

'Tis also well this air is stirred
—By Nature's voices loud and low,
By thunder and the chirping bird,
—And grasses whispering as they grow.

For all her spirit's earthly course
—Was as a lesson and a sign
How to o'errule the hard divorce
—That parts things natural and divine.

Undaunted by the clouds of fear,
—Undazzled by a happy day,
She made a Heaven about her here,
—And took how much! with her away.