Richard Monckton Milnes, Lord Houghton (1809–1885)

’TIS right for her to sleep between

Some of those old Cathedral-walls,

And right too that her grave is green

With all the dew and rain that falls.

’Tis well the organ’s solemn sighs

Should soar and sink around her rest,

And almost in her ear should rise

The prayers of those she loved the best.

’Tis also well this air is stirred

By Nature’s voices loud and low,

By thunder and the chirping bird,

And grasses whispering as they grow.

For all her spirit’s earthly course

Was as a lesson and a sign

How to o’errule the hard divorce

That parts things natural and divine.

Undaunted by the clouds of fear,

Undazzled by a happy day,

She made a Heaven about her here,

And took, how much! with her away.