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!"