Even in the Earthquake and the palpable cloud
Of those dark months; and when a fickle crowd
Panted for blood and pelted wrath and scorn
On him she loved, her courage never stooped:
But when the clouds were driven, and the day
Poured Hope and glorious Sunshine, she who had borne,
The night with such strong Heart, withered and drooped,
Our queenly lily, and smiling passed away.
Now! let no fouling touch profane her clay,
Nor odious pomps and funeral tinsels mar