There is a chillness in the air —
A coldness in the smile of day;

There is a flower that yet must fade,
And yield its sweetness up to death.

Her earthly hope is gone; and now
Comes in its place a brighter beam,
Leaving upon her snowy brow
The impress of a heavenly dream:

That she, when her frail body yields,
And fades away to mortal eyes,
Shall burst through Heaven's eternal fields,
And bloom again – in Paradise.