Without one friend his stedfast eyes to close,
Yet on his honour’d corpse shall many a gale
Waft the moist fragrance of the weeping rose.
“O’er the dread spot the melancholy moon
Shall pause a while—a sadder beam to shed;
And starry night amidst her awful noon
Sprinkle light dews upon his hallowed head.
“There too the solitary bird shall swell
With long-drawn melody her plaintive throat;
While distant echo from responsive cell