MY days among the Dead are past; 
   Around me I behold, 
Where'er these casual eyes are cast, 
   The mighty minds of old: 
My never-failing friends are they, 
With whom I converse day by day. 

With them I take delight in weal 
   And seek relief in woe; 
And while I understand and feel 
   How much to them I owe, 
My cheeks have often been bedew'd 
With tears of thoughtful gratitude. 

My thoughts are with the Dead; with them 
   I live in long-past years, 
Their virtues love, their faults condemn, 
   Partake their hopes and fears; 
And from their lessons seek and find 
Instruction with an humble mind. 

My hopes are with the Dead; anon 
   My place with them will be, 
And I with them shall travel on 
   Through all Futurity; 
Yet leaving here a name, I trust, 
That will not perish in the dust.