Within that solemn chamber of the dead.
They waited for the minister of God,
To do the last sad offices of earth;
And yet he came not. Moments pass’d away,
Until an hour had mark’d its silent flight,
With longer, darker shadows on the ground.
’Twas time they had convey’d, with solemn tread,
The body to its home, ere night should draw
Her curtain round the world. Where linger’d he
Who should be at the burial of the dead?