John Oldham (1653–1683)

THY soul within such silent pomp did keep,

As if humanity were lull’d asleep;

So gentle was thy pilgrimage beneath,

Time’s unheard feet scarce make less noise,

Or the soft journey which a planet goes.

Life seem’d all calm as its last breath.

A still tranquillity so hush’d thy breast,

As if some Halcyon were its guest,

And there had built her nest;

It hardly now enjoys a greater rest….

Go, happy Soul, ascend the joyful sky,

Joyful to shine with thy bright company….