Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/209

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
THE LITTLE PEOPLE OF THE SNOW.
203
 Now came the funeral day; the simple folkOf all that pastoral region gathered round,To share the sorrow of the cottagers.They carved a way into the mound of snowTo the glen's side, and dug a little graveIn the smooth slope, and, following the bier,In long procession from the silent door,Chanted a sad and solemn melody. "Lay her away to rest within the ground.Yea, lay her down whose pure and innocent lifeWas spotless as these snows; for she was rearedIn love, and passed in love life's pleasant spring,And all that now our tenderest love can doIs to give burial to her lifeless limbs." They paused. A thousand slender voices round,Like echoes softly flung from rock and hill,Took up the strain, and all the hollow air
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.