Rejoice, ye dead, where'er your spirits dwell; 
Rejoice, that yet on earth your fame is bright, 
And that your names, remembered day and night, 
Live on the lips of those who love you well. 
'Tis ye that conquered have the powers of hell, 
Each with the special grace of your delight. 
Now are ye spherèd and have starry names, 
Behind the sun ye climb 
To light the glooms of Time
With deathless fame.