Page:Forget Me Not 1835.pdf/5

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And her loosened long black hair Is sweeping darkly round her, As if it were the solemn pall That already bound her.

But the sweet pale mouth was calm, And the eyes were meekly closing, And upon the marble cheek Was the silken lash reposing;

Softly as a little child Sleeps on its mother's bosom, Sweetly as a tender flower Closes its languid blossom.

There were eyes, unused to weep, Around her dim with weeping; Yet death seemed not for tears, 'Twas so like sweetest sleeping.

Not beneath the deep sea waves, Vexed with perpetual motion, Neither in the sparry caves Of the tumultuous ocean,

Did that youthful maiden rest— She had more fit entombing In that balmy southern isle, With its summer's sunny blooming.