INSCRIPTION FOR THE GRAVE OF ANNA D'ARFET.

O'er my poor ANNA'S lowly grave

No dirge shall sound, no knell shall ring;

But angels, as the high pines wave,

Their half-heard “Miserere” sing.

No flowers of transient bloom at eve

The maidens on the turf shall strew;

Nor sigh, as the sad spot they leave,

Sweets to the sweet! a long adieu!

But in this wilderness profound,

O'er her the dove shall build her nest;

And ocean swell with softer sound

A requiem to her dreams of rest!

Ah! when shall I as quiet be,

When not a friend, or human eye,

Shall mark beneath the mossy tree

The spot where we forgotten lie!

To kiss her name on the cold stone,

Is all that now on earth I crave;

For in this world I am alone —

Oh, lay me with her in the grave!