Cold were the breast that would not heave
One sigh, the home of youth to leave;
Stern were the heart that would not swell
To breathe life’s saddest word—farewell!
Though earth has many a deeper woe,
Though tears more bitter far must flow,
That hour, whate’er our future lot,
That first fond grief, is ne’er forgot!
Such was the pang of Bertha’s heart,
The thought, that bade the tear-drop start;