| Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908). A Victorian Anthology, 1837–1895. 1895. |
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| Lilian Adelaide Neilson |
| | | Clement William Scott (b. 1841) |
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| WHAT shall my gift be to the dead one lying | |
| Wrapp’d in the mantle of her mother earth? | |
| No tear, no voice, no prayer, or any sighing, | |
| Gives back her face made beautiful by birth. | |
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| Honor was due to one whose soul was tender, | 5 |
| Whose nature quicken’d at the touch of art; | |
| Now that the struggle’s over, God will send her | |
| Mercy and peace to soothe her troubled heart. | |
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| Tears will be shed; for who dare raise the finger | |
| Of scorn when all is buried in the grave? | 10 |
| Some pity near her memory will linger: | |
| Upon life’s stormy sea she toss’d—a wave! | |
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| Life’s weary hill she bravely fell in breasting, | |
| Her work was done; “Oh, take me home,” she sighs; | |
| Whisper it low, she sleeps not, “she is resting,”— | 15 |
| So fell the curtain, and she clos’d her eyes. | |
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| The flowers she lov’d will deck the cross that shows us | |
| Where all remains of what was once so fair. | |
| Yes! she is dead, but still, perhaps, she knows us | |
| Who say “Implora pace!” for our prayer. | 20 |
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| They gave love’s playthings, who were wont to win her, | |
| As Juliet coax’d to happiness her nurse; | |
| But I, who knew the goodness that was in her, | |
| Place humbly on her grave—this leaf of verse! | |
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