Beamed her eye more lovingly,—
And ’twas known that death stood claiming
Gentle, trusting Mee Shway-ee.
“But to her he came an angel,
Throned in clouds of rosy light;
Came to bear her to that Saviour
Who had broke her weary night;
And with smiles she sought his bosom;
So, beside the rushing sea,
’Neath the weeping casuarina,