Henceforth to you this monument shall be
A bright and constant presence: evermore
Your thoughts of death must pass by this white door,
Till ye yourselves shall meet Eternity;
This vestal tablet written o'er with love,
From morn to eve your inner eye shall read,
And even in midnight darkness ye shall prove
What heavenward hopes its snowy gleam can feed;
Yes, ever in your hearts' clear depths shall lie
This fair tomb-shadow, when no ripple moves;
And, when fresh roused to earthly sympathy,
Come floating softly o'er your living loves:
While I, not robbing you, may keep my share
Of that pure light which stole across my prayer.