The hand that woke the pencil's power,
And bore to penury's lowly bower,
The never-wearied alms,
The sweet, sweet voice that duly cheer'd
A grateful Sabbath train,
The uprais'd eye that taught them more
Of Heaven, than all their student lore,
Must ne'er return again.
She took her flight as from the cage
Enfranchised warblers glide,