While filial piety can please the ear,
Thy name will still occur for ever dear:
This very spot now humaniz'd shall crave
From all a tear of pity on thy grave.
O flow'r of flow'rs! which we shall see no more,
No kind returning Spring can thee restore,
Thy loss thy hapless countrymen deplore.
East Side.
"O earth! cover not thou my blood."—Job. xvi. 18.
West Side.