University of Virginia Library

XXXIX.

The fathers came with solemn dirge
And midnight chauntings for the dead;
And, as they on the aisle emerge,
Sudden their lifted tapers shed
Long gleams upon each altar-bier,
And showed the warrior resting near.
Each monk, as to the choir he passed,
A glance on the dead soldier cast.
How various was the countenance,
Thus lighted by the taper's glance!
But, oh! that words each line might trace
Of that appealing look of grace,

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(But words may not that glimpse define,)
Which beamed from many a passing eye
Of the cowled throng then crowding by—
The look, that would to Heaven resign
Each object of its sympathy!