Where are ye now?—where are ye now?
Those loving hearts and spirits, where!
O’er three new graves in grief I bow,
But ye are gone—ye are not there!
The winds that sigh while wandering by,
Curl the bright snow in many a wreath,
And sing in mournful melody,
O’er the cold dust that sleeps beneath.
The birds that sang when ye were here,
Are singing in another clime;