AN INQUIRY OF THE SEXTON.

“Sexton, was she here to-day

Who has met me oft before?

Did she come and go away,

Tired of waiting any more?

For I fancy some mistake

Has occurred about the time;

Yet, the hour has not yet passed;

Hark! the bells begin to chime.

“In her hair two roses woo,

One a white, and one a red.

Azure silk her dress might be,

Though she oft wears white instead.

Here, beside this marble cross,

Oft she kneels in silent prayer;

Tell me, has she been to-day,

In the church-yard anywhere?”

“No, the lady that you seek

Has not passed the gate to-day:

I've been digging at a grave,

And if she had come this way

I'd have seen her from my work.

She may come to meet you yet.

I remember well her looks.

Names, not faces, I forget.”