< Page:The West Indies, and Other Poems.djvu
This page needs to be proofread.
118
��AN EPITAPH.
��Art thou a Man of honest mould, With fervent heart, and soul sincere ?
A husband, father, friend ? — Behold Thy Brother slumbers here.
The sun that wakes yon violet's bloom, Once cheer'd his eye, now dark in death,
The wind that wanders o'er this tomb Was once his vital breath.
The roving wind shall pass away. The warming sun forsake the sky ;
Thy Brother, in that dreadful day, Shall live,— and never die.
�� �
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is licensed under Creative Commons - Attribution - Sharealike. Additional terms may apply for the media files.