Page:Southern Life in Southern Literature.djvu/262

244  We gazed and gazed upon that beauteous face,
 * While, round the lips and eyes,

Couched in their marble slumber, flashed the grace
 * Of a divine surprise.

O mother of a blessed soul on high,
 * Thy tears may soon be shed!

Think of thy boy, with princes of the sky,
 * Among the Southern dead.

How must he smile on this dull world beneath,
 * Fevered with swift renown,—

He, with the martyr's amaranthine wreath,
 * Twining the victor's crown!

 

