So loved, so blest, is that young spirit fled,
Whose early grandeur promised years of fame?
Oh! when hath life possess’d, or death destroy’d
More lovely hopes, more cloudlessly that smiled?
When hath the spoiler left so dark a void?
For all is lost—the mother and her child!
Our morning-star hath vanish’d, and the tomb
Throws its deep lengthen’d shade o’er distant years to come.
III.
Angel of Death! did no presaging sign