The West Indies, and Other Poems/An Epitaph

For works with similar titles, see An Epitaph.

AN EPITAPH.



Art thou a Man of honest mould,
With fervent heart, and soul sincere?
A husband, father, friend?—Behold
Thy Brother slumbers here.

The sun that wakes yon violet's bloom,
Once cheer'd his eye, now dark in death,
The wind that wanders o'er this tomb
Was once his vital breath.

The roving wind shall pass away,
The warming sun forsake the sky;
Thy Brother, in that dreadful day,
Shall live,—and never die.