"_And Eva stood and wept alone._"--A good many years ago I deciphered on
the marbled paper cover of one of my school-books the lines of which the
following are what I yet retain in memory:
"And Eva stood, and wept alone,
Awhile she paused, then woke a strain
Of intermingled joy and pain.
Yes, O my mother! thou art fled.
And who on this lone heart will shed
The healing dew of sympathy,
That stills the bosom's deepest sigh?
Yes! thou art fled, but if 'tis given
To spirits in the courts of heaven
To watch o'er those they love (for this
Must heighten even angels' bliss),
If blessing so refined and pure
Our mortal frailty can endure,
Oh! may my mother's spirit mild
Watch over and protect her child."
I have never since, through a tolerably extensive course of reading, met
with the poem to which these lines belong, and have inquired of others,
without more success. Can any of your correspondents inform me of the
name of the poem, and of its author?