The day approach'd; the solemn bell
In dismal notes rang Laura's knell;
Charles and his mate in blackness clad,
With rueful thoughts and faces sad
Saw her interr'd — heard ""
And cry'd — to this all come, and must.
The coaches now in sad array
Pace back the mournful late trod way;
Whilst floating plumes on shoulders borne,
The dusty lanes and streets adorn.