Explore "The Dead" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
By Ernst Stockmann
How they so softly rest, / All they the holy ones, / Unto whose dwelling-place / Now doth my soul draw near! / How they so softly rest, / All in their silent graves, / Deep to corruption / Slowly don-sinking!
And they no longer weep, / Here, where complaint is still! / And they no longer feel, / Here, where all gladness flies! / And, by the cypresses / Softly o'ershadowed / Until the Angel / Calls them, they slumber!