Poems (Gould, 1833)/The Winter Burial
THE WINTER BURIAL.
The deep-toned bell peals long and low On the keen, mid-winter air;A sorrowing train moves sad and slow From the solemn place of prayer.
The earth is in a winding sheet, And nature wrapped in gloom,Cold, cold the path which the mourners' feet Pursue to the waiting tomb!
They follow one, who calmly goes From her own loved mansion-door,Nor shrinks from the way through gathered snows, To return to her home no more.
A sable line, to the drift-crowned hill The narrow pass they wind;And here, where all is drear and chill, Their friend they leave behind.
The silent grave they 're bending o'er, A long farewell to take;One last, last look, and then, no more Till the dead shall all awake!