1 The dead are like the stars by day,
Withdrawn from mortal eye,
Yet holding unperceived their way
Through the unclouded sky.
2 By them, through holy hope and love,
We feel, in hours serene,
Connected with a world above,
Immortal and unseen.
8 For death his sacred seal hath set
On bright and bygone hours;
And they we mourn are with us yet,
Are more than ever ours; --
4 Ours, by the pledge of love and faith,
By hopes of heaven on high;
By trust, triumphant over death,