And so we were, till the winds blew bleak,
And chilled the roses on Dolly’s cheek.
Like the waning tide of a waveless sea,
Her life ebbed gently—ah me! ah me!
If you want to know why I ofttimes sigh,
You must come with me to the town close by;
You must see the church where our vows were said,
And the mound that covers the restful dead.
For my love is sleeping the quiet sleep
That the Shepherd gives to His wearied sheep—