Literary Gazette 20th December 1823, Page 811
Through which his mother as a bride had pass'd.
The grave was closed: but still the Widow sat
Upon a sod beside, and silently,
(Hers was not grief that words had comfort for.)
The funeral train pass'd on, and she was left
Alone amid the tombs; but once she looked
Towards the shadowy lane, then turned again,
As desolate and sick at heart, to where
Her help, her hope, her Child, lay dead together!
She went home to her lonely room. Next morn
Some entered it, and there she sat,
Her white hair hanging o'er the withered hands
On which her pale face leant; the Bible lay
Open beside, but blistered were the leaves
With two or three large tears, which had dried in.
Oh, happy she had not survived her child!
And many pitied her, for she had spent
Her little savings, and she had no friends;
But strangers made her grave in that churchyard,
And where her Sailor slept, there slept his Mother!
L. E. L.