Forgive, blest shade

Forgive, blest shade, the tributary tear,

That mourns thy exit from a world like this:

Forgive the wish that would have kept thee here,

And stayed thy progress to the realms of bliss.

No more confin'd to grovelling scenes of night,

No more a tenant pent in mortal clay;

We rather now should hail thy glorious flight,

And trace thy journey to the realms of day.