From out the golden dawn of vanished years
She glides into my dreams, a form divine
Of light and love, to soothe the thoughts that pine
For what has been, to stem the tide of tears
That inward flows upon the heart and sears
Its inmost core. Her countenance benign,
Where Love and Pity's chastened graces shine,
Reflects the hallowed light of other spheres.
Then to my anguished soul, with care outworn,
Comes, like a strain on aerial wings upborne,
This message from her soul:—‘ Bid sorrow cease;
Love dies not;—‘ tis th’ immortal life above.
And chastened souls, that win eternal peace
Through earthly suff'ring, know that Heaven is Love!’