And her in festal halls I saw,

Where glowed full many a gem,

With nothing on her snowy brow

But Beauty's diadem.

There with that priceless jewel she
Would bear her lofty part,

And move the queen of festal glee,
And sway the noblest heart.

I saw her at the altar stand,

A wreath was on her brow,

With a smile she gave her lily hand

For a false and fickle vow.

And then I saw her-oh! despair

The saddest thing on earth—

Thrown o'er her neck her long rich hair,

Beside a lowly hearth.

Her moaning babe was cradled nigh,

Her pale hand on it lay;

But she, to still its piteous cry,

No soothing word did say.

Her marble brow and fixed eye

Gleamed through her coal-black hair, And she-as cold as th' polar iceA corpse was sitting there.

And last I saw the black hearse come

And take that lovely form,

And bear it to an early tomb,

Food for the hungry worm.

LAIS.