They are all gone into the world of light!
And I alone sit lingering here;
Their very mem'ry is fair and bright, 
And my sad thoughts doth clear.

I see them walking in an air of glory,
Whose Light doth trample on my days;
My days, which are at best but dull and hoary,
Mere glimmering and decays.

Dear beautious death the jewel of the just
Shining No where but in the dark
What myst'ries do lie beyond thy dust
Could man out look the mark.

If a Star were confined into a tomb
Her captive flames must needs burn there
But when the hand that locked her up gives room
She'll shine through all the sphere.

O Father of eternal life and all
Created glories under Thee
Retrieve thy spirit from this world of thrall
Into true Liberty

Either disperse these mists which blot and fill
My Perspective still as they pass;
Or else remove me hence unto that hill
Where I shall need no glass.

                -Henry Vaughan