_A Lover’S Lament._

As lillies, arrayed in their loveliness, fade, So faded my fairest--my love: My joys have all fled, for my darling is dead-- O Stella! My dearest, my dove!

The loveliest flowers, in this sad world of ours, Are soonest from us to depart-- Are first to decay; and thus faded away The tenderest joy of my heart.

My hopes, once so bright, have all taken their flight, For gone is my beautiful dove: I’m weary with grief, and shall ne’er find relief, Till I rest with my darling above.