Chapter VIII

Rejoice, ye dead, where’er your spirits dwell;
Rejoice that yet on earth your fame is bright,
And that your names, remembered day and night,
Live on the lips of those who love you well.
’Tis ye that conquered have the powers of Hell
Each with the special grace of your delight;
Ye are the world’s creators, and by might
Alone of heavenly love ye did excel.

Now ye are starry names,
Behind the sun ye climb,
To light the glooms of time
With deathless flames.