Hide it up, hide it up, draw the decent curtain: Hence! curious fool, and pry not on corruption: For the fearful mysteries of change are being there enacted, And many actors play their part on that small stage, the tomb. Leave the clay, that leprous thing, touch not the fleshly garment: Dust to dust, it mingleth well among the sacred soil: It is scattered by the winds, it is wafted by the waves, it mixeth with herbs and cattle, But God hath watched those morsels, and hath guided them in care: Each waiting soul must claim his own, when the archangel soundeth, And all the fields, and all the hills, shall move a mass of life; Bodies numberless crowding on the land, and covering the trampled sea, Darkening the air precipitate, and gathered scatheless from the fire; The Himalayan peaks shall yield their charge, and the desolate steppes of Siberia, The Maelström disengulph its spoil, and the iceberg manumit its captive: All shall teem with life, the converging fragments of humanity, Till every conscious essence greet his individual frame; For in some dignified similitude, alike, yet different in glory, This body shall be shaped anew, fit dwelling for the soul: The hovel hath grown to a palace, the bulb hath burst into the flower, Matter hath put on incorruption, and is at peace with spirit. Amen,--and so it shall be:--but now, the scene is drear,-- Yea, though promises and hope strive to cheat its sadness; Full of grief, though faith herself is strong to speed the soul, For the partner of its toil is left behind to endure an ordeal of change. Dear partner, dear and frail, my loved though humble home,-- Should I cast thee off without a pang, as a garment flung aside? Many years, for joy and sorrow, have I dwelt in thee, How shall I be reckless of thy weal, nor hope for thy perfection?-- This also, He that lent thee for my uses in mortality, Shall well fulfil with boundless praise on that returning day: Behold, thou shalt be glorified: thou, mine abject friend, And should I meanly scorn thy state, until it rise to greatness? Far be it, O my soul, from thine expectant essence, To be heedless, if indignity or folly desecrate those thine ashes: Keep them safe with careful love; and let the mound be holy; And, thou that passest by, revere the waiting dead. [Illustration]