To one unknown, yet hovering—oh! how nigh!
'And yet—unlike that image of decay—
There hovered round her, as she silent lay,
A holy sunlight, an angelic bloom,
That brightened up the terrors of the tomb,
And, as it showed Heaven's glorious world beyond,
Forbade her heart to throb, her spirit to despond.
'But, who steps forward, o'er the glowing green,
With silent tread, these stately groves between?
To watch his fragile flower, who sees him not,