A Dialogue

DEATH: For my dagger is bathed in the blood of the brave, I come, care-worn tenant of life, from the grave, Where Innocence sleeps 'neath the peace-giving sod, And the good cease to tremble at Tyranny's nod; I offer a calm habitation to thee,-- Say, victim of grief, wilt thou slumber with me? My mansion is damp, cold silence is there, But it lulls in oblivion the fiends of despair; Not a groan of regret, not a sigh, not a breath, Dares dispute with grim Silence the empire of Death.…