1867.



SHE
AT HIS FUNERAL



They bear him to his resting-place -
In slow procession sweeping by;
I follow at a stranger's space;
His kindred they, his sweetheart I.
Unchanged my gown of garish dye,
Though sable-sad is their attire;
But they stand round with griefless eye,
Whilst my regret consumes like fire!

187-.



HER INITIALS



Upon a poet's page I wrote
Of old two letters of her name;
Part seemed she of the effulgent thought