“My days among the dead”

Robert Southey (1774–1843)

MY days among the dead are passed;

Around me I behold,

Where’er these casual eyes are cast,

The mighty minds of old;

My never-failing friends are they,

With whom I converse day by day.

With them I take delight in weal,

And seek relief in woe;

And while I understand and feel

How much to them I owe,

My cheeks have often been bedewed

With tears of thoughtful gratitude.

My thoughts are with the dead; with them

I live in long-past years;

Their virtues love, their faults condemn,

Partake their hopes and fears,

And from their lessons seek and find

Instruction with an humble mind.

My hopes are with the dead; anon

My place with them will be,

And I with them shall travel on

Through all futurity:

Yet leaving here a name, I trust,

That will not perish in the dust.