Oh! lay the brokenn lyre Upon his tomb; The Pleiad's glowing fire Is quenched in gloom! The glorious and the bright (Wiled from the realm of night To earth) has taken flight: Good spirits — room! Room for the truant star! Room — room above! To the bright land afar Admit our dove, So worn and tempest-riven! Be all his faults forgiven! Calm be his rest in heaven, Whose soul was love!