For, though so far from her dear southern home,
Her father, mother, brother, all were there!
And her adopted sister too had come
To see her loved one die. That silent room
Was not by hireling strangers occupied,
Whisp’ring their wonder at thine early doom;
No—no—it was not thus my sister died—
Her own belov’d ones stood her dying bed beside.
XXXII.
My brother rais’d her in his own fond arms,