The back of her tombstone offers this recitation: There's a beautiful region above the skies, And I long to reach its shore. For I know I shall find my treasure there, The loved one gone before.
These words are from a poem by B. F. Taylor. I found it in The Speaker's Garland and Literary Bouquet. [P. Garrett & Co., 1876. Google book.]
GONE BEFORE -- B. F. TAYLOR
There's a beautiful face in the silent air,
Which follows me ever and near;
With smiling eyes and amber hair,
With voiceless lips, yet with breath of prayer,
That I feel but cannot hear.
The dimpled hand and ringlet of gold
Lie low in a marble sleep:
I stretch my hand for a clasp of old,
But the empty air is strangely cold,
And my vigil alone I keep.
There's a sinless brow with a radiant crown,
And a cross laid down in the dust;
There's a smile where never a shade comes now,
And tears no more from those dear eyes flow,
So sweet in their innocent trust.
Ah, well! and summer is come again,
Singing her same old song;
But, oh! it sounds like a sob of pain,
As it floats in the sunshine and the rain,
O'er the hearts of the world's great throng.
There's a beautiful region above the skies,
And I long to reach its shore,
For I know I shall find my treasure there,
The laughing eyes and amber hair,
Of the loved on gone before.
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