Which trembled then.
And in the end Jesus
About Him gazed and with a loud voice cried:
Elói, Elói, lama Sabachtani,
And yielded up the ghost....
A FANTASTIC BALLAD
Its first night now away from wealth’s gleam,
The graceful form of that proud belle,
Cold, ’neath its flowery mound, in deep dream,
Within its casket there did dwell.