They buried Lenora and her nameless babe
Close beside her mother's clay,
And each one spake in kindly tones
Of the hapless ones that day.
The arm that sent the dagger home
Was nerved by a brain dethroned:
'Tis Lenora's was an awful deed,
But her terrible death atoned.
Aye, let us hope the much-wronged child
Has reached a home above
Where babes can live who have no name
And 'tis not sin to love.
A Prisoner's Lamentation.
A poor convict in his cell lay dying:
He thought of home and loved ones dear,