And now in burying their dead—their darling, out of sight.
“Ashes to ashes—dust to dust”—with mournful hollow sound
The clods of earth are falling on that coffin under ground;
Nay, shudder not, nor turn away, with sudden heart-despair!
Mother! ’tis but his lifeless dust, his spirit is not there.
Yes, smile again that same sad smile, and raise thy languid eyes,
Again—O, mourner! dost thou see thy darling in the skies?
In silence and in thoughtfulness, away the mourners move;
Deserted is that peaceful spot, within a shady grove.
Deserted? No! for all day long, and through the silent night,