For names like yours can never die.



LINES

ON THE DEATH OF MISS MARY HAYES.

Another star has left the sky,
Another flower has ceased to bloom;
The fairest are the first to die,
The best go earliest to the tomb.

That radiant star, whose cheering ray,
Adorn'd her quiet, rural home,
Went down, in darkness, at mid-day.
And left that quiet home in gloom.

That lovely flower, admired so much,
In all its loveliness, was lost,
It withered at the fatal touch
Of death's untimely, killing frost.

The mourners go about the street,
While children tell their tale of woe
To every passer-by they meet,
In faltering accents, faint and low.

"Dear Mary Hayes is dead," they say,
While tears roll down their cheeks like rain,