Green with the moss of years. Upon the simple sight
As there it lay I could not look unmoved!
Forgive the weakness—never did step of mine
Approach this door, but she who dwelt within
[64] 1827.
With chearful hope: but ere the second autumn
Her life's true Help-mate on a sick-bed lay,
[65] 1827.
Was all consumed. Two children had they now,
One newly born. As I have said, it was