And now my drooping bell must toll
For a sweet departed soul
One upon whose young head was set
A bright and hopeful coronet;
And, more than that, who was a wife
Leading a blest and flowery life,
And who had just lain down, and smiled,
To give her lord and love a child,
When lo, she felt it must not be,
And altered; and both child and she
Slipped from him to eternity.

Sleep and Heav'n, brave heart, restore him!
For he had fair hours before him

She should have ruled us all some day;
And underneath a Lady's sway
Men prosper somehow, and show forth
All that they have of manly worth;
Perhaps because to a fair she
Subjection 's mixed with gallantry;
And she, I know, would have held dear
This merry season of the year,
For she was nothing falsely proud,
Nor inhumane; but sweetly bowed
To all kind pleasures and glad hours,
And loved the green leaves and the flowers,
And, wanting flowers, could make her merry
With the holly and its blithe berry;
But now she 's gone, and dulled my rhyme:
And would have marred our Christmas time;
But that we know she 's gone to live
A happier life than we could give,
With Eden fruits, and in her ears
Angel songs and harping spheres,
And a fadeless flowery bough
O'er her frank and sparkling brow,
And is more than royal now.