An Incident in a Church

As one whose eyes, by gleam of waters caught,
Should find them strewn with pansies, so to me
It chanced that morning, as I bow'd the knee,
Soliciting th' approach of hallow'd thought;
I dream'd not that so dear a tomb was nigh;
My sidelong glance the lucid marble drew,
And, turning round about enquiringly,
I found it letter'd with the names I knew;
Three precious names I knew, and loved withal,
Yea, knew and loved, albeit too briefly known —
Louisa, Henry, and the boy just grown
To boyhood's prime, as each received the call;
And, over all, carved in the same white stone,
The symbol of the holiest death of all.