 | Lays for the Dead |  |
79
ON THE SAME.
In sleep she died—as on the summer galesThe breath of flowers by eye unseen exhales:
So her pure spirit from its beauteous clay
Unmark'd, ascended to the realms of day.
O blest allotment! sleep in mercy sent
To save her tender heart from vain lament,
At the sad sight of her fond parent's woe
When forc'd a child so precious to forego;
And, greater pang, to feel herself the cause
Of that deep agony which knows no pause!
But, mercy's hand, to make these ills remove,
In slumber bore her to her home above;
And, Isabella! it to thee was given
To close thine eyes on earth, and wake in heaven!
| Lays for the Dead | |