122 FUNEREAL SKETCHES. 



Penlee Point, expressing herself highly gratified with 

 the noble and varied prospect it commands ; the 

 edifice has been erected on this spot and called 

 Adelaide Chapel in honor of her majesty. 



FUNEREAL SKETCHES. 



No. III. 

 CI GIT MON PERE. 



How gem-like shines the summer dew 

 In southern climes, as evening falls. 



Where vine leaves cluster round the yew. 

 Or creep along the chureh-yard walls. 



A peasant girl, not all a child 



Nor yet in woman*s earliest bloom, 



Had culled her wreath of flow'rets wild 

 To deck a long-lost parent's tomb : 



She sat beside, not on the grave, 

 And, one by one, each varied 'flower 



Fell, sprinkled with her tears, and gave 

 Meet offering for that pensive hour. 



Sat she there mute, with holy dread ; 



Or silent, lest the village hum 

 Might drown her requiem o*er the dead ? 



Woe for the mourner ! — She was dumb. 



For turned, at last, to quit the place 

 I asked her who lay buried there — 



And, on a stone, her fingers trace 



The simple words, " Ci git mon p^re." 



Thus many a heart whose wearing woe 

 Lies hushed on this broad world of care, 



With tears not words can deeper show 

 Affection's loss — " Ci git mon pfere !" 



No. IV. 



MY mother's grave. 



Yon lonely tower above the vale 

 Far beetling o'er the deep blue sea, 



