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Its rays around the darken'd room,
And all was deep and sullen gloom.
And all was deep and sullen gloom.
No word escaped his parching tongue,
No tear upon his eyelids hung,—
Wildly he pressed his burning head,
And gazed in silence on the dead;
For all that now remained on earth
Of her who nursed and gave him birth,
On the cold ground before him lay,
A livid, wither' d, lump of clay;
And as he gazed, o'er his dark soul
A new and strange sensation stole,
'Twas madness!—"Here's no peace," he said,
"But there is peace among the dead,
"And thou my mother now art free,
"I'll hasten then and come to thee."
No tear upon his eyelids hung,—
Wildly he pressed his burning head,
And gazed in silence on the dead;
For all that now remained on earth
Of her who nursed and gave him birth,
On the cold ground before him lay,
A livid, wither' d, lump of clay;
And as he gazed, o'er his dark soul
A new and strange sensation stole,
'Twas madness!—"Here's no peace," he said,
"But there is peace among the dead,
"And thou my mother now art free,
"I'll hasten then and come to thee."
No further spoke the sad lost man,
But forth with eager haste he ran,
Nor stopped his burning brow to cool,
Until he stood beside the pool.
A leap,—a plunge,—and all was o'er,
He struggling sunk to rise no more!
But forth with eager haste he ran,
Nor stopped his burning brow to cool,
Until he stood beside the pool.
A leap,—a plunge,—and all was o'er,
He struggling sunk to rise no more!
And who, how wise soe'er, can know
What future waits this child of woe?
Ours is a dark mysterious state;
None can unclose the book of fate.
The good in this misjudging world
Are often to distraction hurl'd,
What future waits this child of woe?
Ours is a dark mysterious state;
None can unclose the book of fate.
The good in this misjudging world
Are often to distraction hurl'd,
