Victor Hugo

“ Oh, would that the lamp were relit, with the gloom
These fearful thoughts dispelling!
Thou hast told us our parents lie sleeping beneath
The grass, in a churchyard lonely;
Now thine eyes have no motion, thy mouth has no breath,
And they limbs are all rigid! ”

“ Now thine eye is unclosed, and thy forehead is bent
O'er the hearth, where ashes smoulder;
And behold, the watch-lamp will be speedily spent.
Art thou vexed? have we done aught amiss? Oh, relent!
But, parent, thy hands grow colder!
Say, with ours wilt thou let us rekindle in thine
The glow that has departed? ”

“ We have been since the noon thus alone.
Oh, the hours we have ceased to number!
Wake, grandmother! speechless say why thou art grown.
Then, thy lips are so cold! The Madonna of stone
Is like thee in thy holy slumber. ”