V.

Oh, many a bright existence we have seen Quench’d in the glow and fulness of its prime; And many a cherish’d flower, ere now, hath been Cropt ere its leaves were breathed upon by time. We have lost heroes in their noon of pride, Whose fields of triumph gave them but a bier; And we have wept when soaring genius died, Check’d in the glory of his mid career! But here our hopes were centred--all is o’er: All thought in this absorb’d,--she was--and is no more!