On the same festive night, with accents soft
Mixed in gay concert there. She knew that none
Had ’ere forgot her Edith, but that all
Bore her in loved remembrance; and some thoughts
Of sacred elevation well became
The time and season; and she therefore brought
Some simple lines in memory of her,
As fittest tribute from a mother’s breast—
A song she best could frame. With few words more
Of preface, or apology she read—