Though speech and hearing left him, told too clear
That he had now to suffer—not to fear.
He felt as if he ne’er should cease to feel—
A wretch live-broken on misfortune’s wheel;
Her death’s cause—he might make his peace with Heaven,
Absolved from guilt, but never self-forgiven.
“The ocean has its ebbings—so has grief;
’Twas vent to anguish, if ’twas not relief,
To lay his brow e’en on her death-cold cheek.
Then first he heard her one kind sister speak: