Yet, kneeling with him, still more sad than he,
I saw him once turn round and smile as sweet
As in the happy rose and lily days,
When, from between the stubble of the wheat,
A skylark soared up through the clouds to praise
The sun's eternity.
Hope seemed to flash a moment in his eyes;
And, knowing him so well, I know he thought—
"How fair the legend through the ages brought,
That still to live is Death's most sweet surprise!"