| So live, that when thy summons comes to join | |
| The innumerable caravan which moves | |
| To that mysterious realm, where each shall take | 75 |
| His chamber in the silent halls of death, | |
| Thou go not, like the quarry-slave at night, | |
| Scourged to his dungeon, but, sustained and soothed | |
| By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave | |
| Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch | 80 |
| About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams. |
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