After Witnessing A Death-Scene.

Press close your lips,      And bow your heads to earth, for Death is here!      Mark ye not how across that eye so clear,          Steals his eclipse?          A moment more,      And the quick throbbings of her heart shall cease,      Her pain-wrung spirit will obtain release,          And all be o'er!          Hush! Seal ye up      Your gushing tears, for Mercy's hand hath shaken      Her earth-bonds off, and from her lip hath taken          Grief's bitter cup.          Ye know the dead      Are they who rest secure from care and strife, -      That they who walk the thorny way of life,          Have tears to shed.          Ye know her pray'r,      Was for the quiet of the tomb's deep rest, -      Love's sepulchre lay cold within her breast,          Could peace dwell there?          A tale soon told,      Is of her life the story; she had loved,      And he who won her heart to love, had proved          Heartless and cold.          Lay her to rest,      Where shines and falls the summer's sun and dew;      For these should shine and fall where lies so true          And fond a breast!          A full release      From every pang is given to the dead, -      So on the stone ye place above her head,          Write only "Peace."*          When Spring comes back,      With music on her lips, - joy in her eye, -      Her sunny banner streaming through the sky, -          Flow'rs in her track -          Then come ye here,      And musing from the busy world apart,      Drop on the turf that wraps her mouldering heart,          Sweet Pity's tear.