" ' / CANNOT think thine all is buried here,' 



I said and sighed the wind awoke and blew 

 The morning beam along the gossamer, 



That floated o'er thy grave all wet with dew ; 

 A hint of better things, however slight, 



Will feed a loving heart ; it soothed my woe, 

 To watch that little shaft of heavenly light 

 Pass o'er thee, moving gently to and fro." 



CHARLES TENNYSON TURNER. 



