When The Good Man Yields His Breath

Who That Hath Ever Been Could Bear To Be No More? Yet Who Would Tread Again The Scene He Trod Through Life Before?

There Is A World Above, Where Parting Is Unknown; A Whole Eternity Of Love, Form'd For The Good Alone; And Faith Beholds The Dying Here Translated To That Happier Sphere.

Prayer Is The Soul's Sincere Desire, Uttered Or Unexpressed, The Motion Of A Hidden Fire That Trembles In The Breast. Prayer Is The Burden Of A Sigh, The Falling Of A Tear, The Upward Glancing Of An Eye When None But God Is Near.

Night Is The Time To Weep,to Wet With Unseen Tearsthose Graves Of Memory Where Sleepthe Joys Of Other Years.

Time Is Eternity Begun.