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But why so pensive, when the eternal Will
Hath chosen to call thee to a fairer land?
Why weeps the muses when thy voice is still,
Or circling round thy bier in sorrow stand?
Didst thou not hearken to thy God's command
And willingly His fiat trump obey? ---
Then why the tears of this devoted band
Since thou art sleeping in this hallow'd clay.
Tis for thy loss we grieve - because thou wentst away.

But thou shalt live as heroes of the past,
Whose names are graven on the scroll of fame;
Thy worthy deeds shall like the morning last,
Reflecting honour on thy spotless name.
Thus when Narcissas to the fountain came
Ardent t'embrace th' phantom shade,
But death surprised him ere the pending shame,
And of his blood a fragrant blossom made:
So thou hast left behind, a bloom that will not fade.

Then Join ye Sisters of the sacred choir,
'Tis chaste Athena commands the strain;
Regail thy Harps with learning's Hallowed fire,
Thy tribute due is not in vain.
'Twill wake the slumbering soul again,
And haply prompt the lagging mind,
Or rouse the spirit of neglected gain
To lessen the burden of all mankind;
And thus a pleasant way to Heaven find.