From sorrow’s stern control to lure her,
Her mind to win from painful thought,
Scarce meet for mind and heart maturer.
With feeling far beyond her years,
We tried in vain her grief to smother,
For still burst forth those burning tears,
With this sad wailing—“Mother! mother!”
And last, as ’neath affliction’s blight,
She coldly turned from game and story,
We told her of the spirit’s flight