  COMPOSED, AND DEDICATED TO MISSES HARRIET AND MARY HALSEY.Of Blooming Grove, O. C., N. Y.,BY MISS AGNES H. JONES.music2 Let my death-slumber be where a mother's prayer And sister's tears can be blended there. Oh, it will be sweet ere the heart's throb is o'er, To know, when its fountain shall gush no more, That those it so fondly has yearn'd for will come, To plant the first wild-flower of spring on my tomb. Let me lie where lov'd ones can weep over me— Bury me not in the deep, deep sea! And there is another, her tears would be shed For him who lays far in an ocean bed; In hours that it pains me to think of now, She has twin'd these locks and kiss'd this brow— In this hair she has wreathed shall the sea-snake hiss? The brow she has press'd shall the cold wave kiss? For the sake of that bright one that wails for me, Bury me not in the deep, deep sea! "She hath been in my dreams"—his voice failed short, They gave no heed to his dying prayer.— They have lowered him o'er the vessel's side— Above him hath closed the solemn tide. Where to dip her wing the wild fowl rests— Where the blue waves dance with their foamy crests— Where the billows bound and the winds sport free, They have buried him there, in the deep, deep sea.
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