VIGIL.
Mournful night is dark around me,
Hushed the world's conflicting din;
All is still, and all is tranquil,
But this restless heart within!
Wakeful still I press my pillow,
Watch the stars that float above,
Think of One, for me who suffered—
Think, and weep for grief and love!
Flow, ye tears! though in your streaming
Oft yon stars of his grow dim;
Sweet the tender grief he wakens,
Blest the tears that flow for him!
R. S. W.
Lent, 1874.