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Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton - The Mourners
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LOW she lies, who blest our eyes 
    Through many a sunny day; 
She may not smile, she will not rise-- 
    The life hath past away! 
Yet there is a world of light beyond, 
    Where we neither die nor sleep-- 
She is there, of whom our souls were fond-- 
    Then wherefore do we weep?

The heart is cold, whose thoughts were told 
    In each glance of her glad bright eye; 
And she lies pale, who was so bright, 
    She scarce seemed made to die. 
Yet we know that her soul is happy now, 
    Where the saints their calm watch keep; 
That angels are crowning that fair young brow-- 
    Then wherefore do we weep?

Her laughing voice made all rejoice, 
    Who caught the happy sound; 
There was gladness in her very step, 
    As it lightly touched the ground. 
The echoes of voice and step are gone; 
    There is silence still and deep: 
Yet we know she sings by God`s bright throne-- 
    Then wherefore do we weep?

The cheek`s pale tinge, the lid`s dark fringe; 
    That lies like a shadow there, 
Were beautiful in the eyes of all-- 
    And her glossy golden hair! 
But though that lid may never wake 
    From its dark and dreamless sleep, 
She is gone where young hearts do not break-- 
    Then wherefore do we weep?

That world of light with joy is bright, 
    This is a world of woe: 
Shall we grieve that her soul hath taken flight, 
    Because we dwell below? 
We will bury her under the mossy sod, 
    And one long bright tress we`ll keep; 
We have only given her back to God-- 
    Ah! wherefore do we weep?
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