O! sing ye a dirge for the loved and the lost,
That have found them a home 'neath the coral reefs
deep;
That have laid them to rest 'neath the murmuring
surge,
Where the whistling wind wails o'er their sweet,
but sad sleep.

They have gone to their home-their last resting-place
The blue waves embraced and called them their own;
While the depths of the sea and the billows thereof
Are mournfully sighing their sad requiem.

Down, down through the mass of the waters they sped,
Amid the dark chambers so mystic, so drear;
'Till perchance they selected some ruby-lit bed,
To sleep their last sleep 'mid jeweled gems rare.

O! 'tis sweet now to ponder, though many have gone
To that far-off bourne whence no traveller returns,
That the sea shall not always their bodies retain,
For Jehovah hath said, she must yield them again.

One bright little jewel outlived the dark storm,
So fatal to many, yet-blissful to tell-
His 'Father in heaven' preserved him from harm,
O, parent rejoice! with your Louis 'tis well.