And urging on their weary steeds? They seem
In haste to meet the mournful retinue
Of him who rides within the sabled hearse.
They meet—dismount—advance with tott’ring steps,
And take their station at the mourner’s side,
Now near her husband’s grave. Who, who are they?
The minister, and his beloved wife;
Both sick, both weary, pale, and sorrowful;
They each had risen from the couch of pain,
And come with trembling haste, four miles or more.