“Oh, mother! mother!” Did that bitter cry
Send a shrill echo through the realm of death?
Look to the trembling fringes of the eye;
List the sharp shudder of returning breath,
The spirit's sob! They lay him on her breast;
One long, long kiss on his bright brow she press'd;
E'en from heaven's gate of bliss she lingereth,
To breathe one blessing o'er his precious head,
And then her arm unclasps, and she is of the dead.