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THE BEREAVED ONE. 199
Oft as the morning breezes
Went sadly moaning by; Oft as the stars of evening
Look'd coldly from the sky; Day after day we saw her,
CJad in a garb of woe, Approaching that lone hillock . And meekly kneeling low.
At length they bore her slowly,
When Spring was on. the lea, And made her lonely pillow
Beneath that willow tree: Where she, in heart devotedness,
So fervently had pray'd, Near the tomb she call'd an altar,
That mother now is laid.
No more with day-light's dawning
Her faded form is seen, Nor when the dusk of evening
Hangs dimly o'er the green; But there, amid the roses,
Where dewy branches weep, There, there, the lone, bereaved one
Now shares her infant's sleep!