Edgar-Edgar-my time-is drawing-near.My feet grow numb and cold.-Kiss me—boy— kiss me. The bird hath ceased his song!"—(Even while he spoke, its notes were filling every corner of the chamber with its most thrilling melody.) "The moon hath set!"—(Yet she was streaming full on his uncurtained couch.) "All-all is dark-and silent.-Time-it is time-to die!— My boy-my own boy!-Bless you-Sibyl!— Sibyl !—" It was over-the spirit had departed to its God. END OF VOL. II. WHITING, BEAUFORT HOUSE, STRAND. |