This was my hope in cheerful mood,
When lovely songs welled from thy angel lips,
Unconscious to thyself, yet sweet to me....
Alas! too early silent, didst thou part,
Snatched forth by death, beloved poetess!...
Not even death sealed thy poetic lips,
That, full of woe, spoke with heart-breaking kiss:
'No longer can I, mother, serve thee now;
My place near by thy side will be no more;
The honor of the keyboard will not fall to me;