While this dread truth their bosoms fill,
That they with her must shortly part.
The long feared fatal hour draws near,—
Deep silence hushed the mourning throng,
Yet still her feeble voice they hear,—
Dear mother, falters on her tongue.
That name her infant tongue first learned,
It trembled on her latest breath;—
Yet a deaf ear the monster turned,
And hushed the tender sound in death.