Or die and sing thy praise.
761. 8s. & 7s. M. R. C. Waterston.
On the Death of a Female Scholar.
1One sweet flower has drooped and faded,
One sweet infant's voice has fled,
One fair brow the grave has shaded,
One dear school-mate now is dead.
2But we feel no thought of sadness,
For our friend is happy now;
She has knelt in soul-felt gladness,