Fairest And Best Adorned Is She Whose

Joys Too Exquisite To Last, And Yet More Exquisite When Past.

The Tulip's Petals Shine In Dew, All Beautiful, But None Alike.

Beyond This Vale Of Tears There Is A Life Above. Unmeasured By The Flight Of Years; And All That Life Is Love.

There Is A Flower, A Little Flower With Silver Crest And Golden Eye, That Welcomes Every Changing Hour, And Weathers Every Sky.

The Dead Are Like The Stars By Day; Withdrawn From Mortal Eye, But Not Extinct, They Hold Their Way In Glory Through The Sky.