Dear, parted one,
Friend of my better years, dark months have passed
With all their awful shadows o’er the earth,
Since this green turf was laid above thy rest,
’Mid sighs and streaming tears and stifled groans,
But oh! thy gentle memory is not dim
In the deep hearts that loved thee. We have set
This sweet young rose-tree o’er thy hallowed grave,
And may the skies shed their serenest dews
Around it, may the summer clouds distil