Paula’s Epitaph

GO you by with gentle tread.
This was Paula, who is dead:
Eyes dark-lustrous to the look
As a leaf-pavilioned brook,
Voice upon the ear to cling
Sweeter than the cithern-string;
Whose shy spirit, unaware
Loosed into refreshful air,
With it took for talisman,
Climbing past the starry van,
Names to which the heavens do ope,
Candor, Chastity, and Hope.