Poems (Fields)/Dirge for a Young Girl

Underneath the sod, low lying,
Dark and drear,
Sleepeth one who left, in dying,
Sorrow here.

Yes, they 're ever bending o'er her,
Eyes that weep;
Forms, that to the cold grave bore her,
Vigils keep.

When the summer moon is shining
Soft and fair,
Friends she loved in tears are twining
Chaplets there.

​Rest in peace, thou gentle spirit,
Throned above;
Souls like thine with God inherit
Life and love!