XLI.

“Still hope! still act! Be sure that life,
The source and strength of every good,
Wastes down in feeling's empty strife,
And dies in dreaming's sickly mood.

XLII.

“To toil in tasks, however mean,
For all we know of right and true—
In this alone our worth is seen;
'Tis this we were ordained to do.

XLIII.

“So shalt thou find in work and thought
The peace that sorrow cannot give;
Though grief's worst pangs to thee be taught,
By thee let others noblier live.

XLIV.

“Oh! wail not in the darksome forest,
Where thou must needs be left alone,
But, e'en when memory is sorest,
Seek out a path, and journey on.

XLV.

“Thou wilt have angels near above,
By whom invisible aid is given;
They journey still on tasks of love,
And never rest except in heaven.

XLVI.

“The God who gave in me a friend,
Is more than any friend to all;
Upon my grave before him bend,
And He will hear thy lonely call.

XLVII.

“One kiss, my Jane—I now must rest.”
His eyes grew faint, his eyelids closed,
And when her lips to his were pressed,
His lips in death reposed.