Midst blinding tears. But unto that old pair,
Even as a breath of spring’s awakening air,
Her presence was; or as a sweet wild tune
Bringing back tender thoughts, which all too soon
Depart with childhood. Sadly they had seen
A daughter to the land of spirits go;
And ever from that time her fading mien,
And voice, like winds of summer, soft and low,
Had haunted their dim years: but Edith’s face
Now look’d in holy sweetness from her place,