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THE CITY OF THE LIVING.

N a long-vanished age, whose varied story
  No record has to-day,—
So long ago expired its grief and glory,—
  There flourished, far away,

In a broad realm, whose beauty passed all measure,
  A city fair and wide,
Wherein the dwellers lived in peace and pleasure,
  And never any died.

Disease and pain and death, those stern marauders,
  Which mar our world's fair face,
Never encroached upon the pleasant borders
  Of that bright dwelling-place.

No fear of parting and no dread of dying
  Could ever enter there;