CAN THIS BE DEATH?

"I HAD a dream. Methought I saw the Soul,
With all her grand affections full in bloom,
High thoughts and noble aims. Upon the tomb
She stood on tiptoe. Meekness marked the whole
Of her sublime devotion. On the goal

Of life she gazed-of life in amplest room,
Replete with wonders and exempt from gloom.
Then nearer to her rosy feet I stole,

And found the tomb a corpse of fairest mould,
The unlike likeness of the Soul-so pale,
So motionless, and growing deadly cold.
Some instinct would not let my heart bewail.
The Soul was mounting slowly.
And in immortal youth already old."

She was hale,

-J. C. EARLE.