The Mist

The inist crept over the valley Heavy, and chili, and gray ; The mist crept into the chamber W here she sitteth alone alway. The mist crept over the mountain Whieh looraed through its shadow dark, And kissed with its cold embraces The old oak'a gnarled bark. She cowered close to the fire, The flamea shot clear and fair. They flashed on her palhd features, And they saw that the miBt was there - A mist that is bom of sorrow, A cloud that is f ormed of dread, Like the faint gray shade that gathers Over the face of the dead. On them 'tis the aign that showeth Life's conquerer hath descended ; On her the mark that telleth The lile of lite ia euded. The mist will pass off from the valley When spring' s firat pulses atir; But the mist that resta on her spirit Will never pass off from her.