-T-T 
FLORA’S ALBUM. • 13 
Aspen Tree. 
“ WTiy tremble so, broad aspen tree ? ” 
LAMENTATION. 
Well, thou art gone, and I am left; 
But oh! how cold and dark to me 
This world, of every charm bereft. 
Where aU was beautiful with thee ! 
Monigomert. 
* * * But now alone I sit. 
Musing of her, and dew with moumfui tears 
Her little robes, that once with woman’s pride 
I wrought, as if there were a need to deck 
What God had made so beautiful. I start. 
Half fancying from her empty crib there comes 
A restless sound; and breathed the accustomed 
words, 
“Hush! hush thee, dearest.” Then I bend and 
weep, — 
As though it were a sin to speak to one 
Whose home is with the angels. 
* » # # 
* * Gone to God! 
Be still, my heart! what could a mother’s prayer, 
In all the wildest ecstasy of hope. 
Ask for its darling like the bliss of heaven t 
Mrs. Sigourney. 
