'Tis manly, then, for you to weep.
No more will little Walter share
Her love, her counsel, and her care;
And thou, lone sister, now must feel
What simple words can ne'er reveal;--
Thou callest many sister yet,
In tones which they will ne'er forget;
Yet no such love their bosoms fill,
As throbbed in that which now lies still.
You oft, in love, each other greet,
But no such melting glances meet,
As ever have been wont to shine,
When Ellen's speaking eyes met thine.
Those eyes, which such pure love revealed,
In death's deep slumbers now are sealed;
But I have watched the cloud that fades,
While earth was wrapped in twilight shades,
And quickly found the loss repaid
By beauties which the heavens displayed;
Anon, a sweet and pensive light
Came stealing o'er the brow of night,--
The stars shone out from depths profound,
Like bands of angels hov'ring round,
Who look from off each lofty seat,
To watch lest snares beguile our feet.
Though this was airy fancy's dream,
Yet still it doth an emblem seem,
Of her who lies before us now
With such calm beauty on her brow.
Death's icy fingers plucked the rose,