Ye sigh not when the sun, his course fulfilled, <br />His glorious course, rejoicing earth and sky, <br />In the soft evening, when the winds are stilled, <br />Sinks where his islands of departure spread <br />O'er the warm-colored heaven and ruddy mountain head. <br /> <br />Why weep ye then for him, who, having won <br />The bound of man's appointed years, at last. <br />Life's blessings all enjoyed, life's labors done, <br />Serenely to his final rest has passed; <br />While the soft memory of his virtues yet <br />Lingers like twilight hues, when the bright sun is set?<br /><br />William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-old-man-s-funeral/
