Quite near the little mound that cover’d o’er
Her boy so beautiful, again she rais’d
Her beaming face to Heaven, and, all entranc’d
With visions of celestial glory—smiled!
The parting beams of the descending sun
Play’d on her cheek, and on her pallid brow,
And kiss’d her parting lips; they seem’d a sign
From Heaven—a sweet love token from the skies.
But hark! what noise is that, that strangely breaks
Upon the sacred stillness of the scene?