and dead. For its life, which had descended from heaven, had,
like other tones, been dissipated in the atmosphere of earth; death had
breathed upon the butterfly, and it had ascended from the rushing
streams of air to the ever-refining ether; from the flowers of earth to
the flowers of paradise.

Oh, ever flutter away, ye blessed children! The angel of rest wakes
you in the morning-hour of life with cradle songs, two arms bear you
and your little coffin, and your body, with the two red cheeks, the
forehead free from the print of grief, and the white hands, glide down
by a chain of flowers to the second cradle, and you have only exchanged
one paradise for another. But we--oh, we are crushed by the
storm-winds of life; our heart is weary, our face is deeply marked with
earthly care, and our soul stiffened, still clings to the earthy clod.

Turn away thine eye from Rosamond's piercing shriek, fixed glance, and
petrifying features, if thou art a mother, and hast already felt this
pain! look not upon the mother, who, with senseless hand, squeezes
against her the corpse which she now cannot stifle; but look at the
father, who, with his breast, silently covers his struggling heart,
although black grief has twined around it with an adder's folds, and
poisoned it with an adder's teeth. Ah, when he at last had conquered
the pain, his heart was envenomed and riven. A man bears the pain of
the wound, but sinks under the scar: a woman seldom combats her grief,
but yet she survives it. "Remain here," he said, with a suppressed
voice, "I will lay it to rest before the moon rises." She said
nothing, kissed the child in silence, broke up its wreath of flowers,
sunk down upon the sun-dial, and laid her cold face upon her arm, that
she might not see it carried away.

On the way the dawning light of the moon shone upon the shaking body of
the infant, and the father said: "Burst forth, oh moon! that I may see
the land wherein He dwells. Rise, oh Elysium! that I may think the
soul of the corse is within thee. Oh child, child, dost thou know
me--dost thou hear me? Hast thou above so fair a face as this one, so
sweet a mouth? Oh thou heavenly mouth, thou heavenly eye, no more
spirit visits thee!" He laid the child beneath flowers which supplied
the place of all that we are generally laid upon for the last time; but
his heart was breaking when he covered the pale lips, the open eyes,
with flowers and earth, and streams of tears f