Oh, why was she garnered in life’s early bloom
To grace with her beauty the clods of the tomb?
There were victims for death, who were weary and old,
And who longed for the slumber unbroken and cold.
But her loveliness lives, for escaped from its urn,
In blossoms and odors her dust shall return—
And the Hesper-like glory, that shone in her eye,
To-night will be beaming a star in the sky.