Thoughts dark and drooping! ’twas the voice of hope.
Of love and social scenes it seem’d to speak:
Of truth, of friendship, of affection meek;
That hand in hand along life’s downward slope,
Might walk with peace and cheer the tranquil hours:
Ah me! the prospect sadden’d as she sung,
Loud on my startled ear the death-bell rung:
Chill darkness wrapt the pleasurable bowers
She built, while pointing to yon breathless clay,
She cried, “No peace be thine, away, away!”