How they so softly rest, <br />All they the holy ones, <br />Unto whose dwelling-place <br />Now doth my soul draw near! <br />How they so softly rest, <br />All in their silent graves, <br />Deep to corruption <br />Slowly don-sinking! <br /> <br />And they no longer weep, <br />Here, where complaint is still! <br />And they no longer feel, <br />Here, where all gladness flies! <br />And, by the cypresses <br />Softly o'ershadowed <br />Until the Angel <br />Calls them, they slumber!<br /><br />Henry Wadsworth Longfellow<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-dead-from-the-german-of-stockmann/
