INSCRIPTION FOR THE GRAVE OF ANNA D'ARFET.

O'er my poor ANNA'S lowly grave No dirge shall sound, no knell shall ring; But angels, as the high pines wave, Their half-heard "Miserere" sing.

No flowers of transient bloom at eve The maidens on the turf shall strew; Nor sigh, as the sad spot they leave, Sweets to the sweet! a long adieu!

But in this wilderness profound, O'er her the dove shall build her nest; And ocean swell with softer sound A requiem to her dreams of rest!

Ah! when shall I as quiet be, When not a friend, or human eye, Shall mark beneath the mossy tree The spot where we forgotten lie!

To kiss her name on the cold stone, Is all that now on earth I crave; For in this world I am alone— Oh, lay me with her in the grave!