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ON THE

 

DEATH OF THE BEAUTIFUL MRS. * * * * *.

I saw her when life's tide was high,
 When youth was hov'ring o'er her brow,
When joy was dancing in her eye,
 And her cheek blushed hope's crimson glow.

I saw her 'mid a fairy throng
 She seemed the gayest of the gay;
I saw her lightly glide along
 'Neath beauty's smile and pleasure's lay.

I saw her in her bridal robe;
 The blush of joy was mounting high;
I marked her bosom's heaving throb,
 I marked her dark and downcast eye.

I saw her when a mother's love
 Asked at her hand a mother's care;
She looked an angel from above,
 Hovering round a cherub fair.

I saw her not till, cold and pale,
 She slumbered on Death's icy arm;
The rose had faded on her cheek,
 Her lip had lost its power to charm.