The little red robin is carving a cross on her grave with his feet; as he hops from the head-stone and carols, his requiem low and sweet.
All nature is hushed, and the stillness, of earth and of air and sky, though pierced by the song of the robin, but whispers a long “good-bye!”
Good-bye to my darling! ’Tis ended; gone are the hopes of my life—O God! that our fates were blended, and finished this desolate strife!
The End.
| [Chapter 1] | | [Chapter 2] | | [Chapter 3] | | [Chapter 4] | | [Chapter 5] | | [Chapter 6] | | [Chapter 7] | | [Chapter 8] | | [Chapter 9] | | [Chapter 10] | | [Chapter 11] | | [Chapter 12] | | [Chapter 13] | | [Chapter 14] |