There seemed a touchy stream of gilded letters carefully cut on its marble face, and on reading them with watery eye and stooping form, was it anything remarkable that a flood of tears bathed the verdure that peeped above the soil?
The lines were these:—
I.
The hand of death hath once more brought
The lifeless body here to lie,
Until aroused with angels’ voice,
Which calls it forth, no more to die.
II.
This man, of health and honest mind,
Had troubles great to bear whilst here,