Two solemn Voices in a funeral strain,
Met as rich sunbeams and dark bursts of rain
    Meet in the sky;
"Thou art gone hence!" one sang; "Our light is flown,
Our beautiful, that seem'd too much our own, 
    Ever to die!

"Thou art gone hence! -- our joyous hills among 
Never again to pour thy soul in song,
    When spring-flowers rise! 
Never the friend's familiar step to meet 
With loving langhter, and the welcome sweet
    Of thy glad eyes."

Thou art gone home, gone home!" then, high and clear,
Warbled that other Voice: "Thou hast no tear
    Again to shed.
Never to fold the robe o'er secret pain,
Never, weigh'd down by Memory's clouds, again 
    To bow thy head.

"Thou art gone home! oh! early crown'd and blest!
Where could the love of that deep heart find rest 
    With aught below! 
Thou must have seen rich dream hy dream decay,
All the bright rose-leaves drop from life away -- 
    Thrice blest to go!"

Yet sigh'd again that breeze-like Voice of grief -- 
"Thou art gone hence! alas! that aught so brief
    So loved should he! 
Thou tak'st our summer hence! -- the flower, the tone,
The music of our being, all in one,
    Depart with thee! 

"Fair form, young spirit, morning vision fled! 
Caust thou be of the dead, the awful dead! 
    The dark unknown?
Yes! to the dwelling where no footsteps fall,
Never again to light up hearth or hall,
    Thy smile is gone!"

"Home! home!" once more th' exulting voice arose:
"Thou art gone home! from that divine repose
    Never to roam!
Never to say farewell, to weep in vain,
To read of change in eyes beloved, again -- 
    Thou art gone home! 

"By the bright waters now thy lot is cast, --
Joy for thee, happy friend! thy bark hath past 
    The rough sea's foam!
Now the long yearnings of thy soul are still'd, --
Home! home! -- thy peace is won, thy heart is fill'd.
    -- Thou art gone home!"