Scarce had he spoken when the pitying throng
Divide before her. Eagerly she came;
A deep and fearful lustre in her eye,
A look of settled woe, ... pale, deadly pale,
Yet to no lamentations giving way,
Nor tears nor groans; ... within her breaking heart
She bore the grief, and kneeling solemnly
Beside him, raised her aweful hands to heaven,
And cried, Lord God! be with him in this hour
Two things have I to think of, O my child,