Epitaph For A Roman Catholic Churchyard

Weary centinel of earth,
  Grief's companion from my birth,
  Doomed no more to watch and weep,
  Now I sleep the dreamless sleep
  In this calmly shrouding cell;
  But what the waking—who may tell!
  In that fated hour of fear,
  Mary! Mother! be thou here.
  Fear to sooth and hope to shed,
  Bend thee o'er this earthy bed;
  And let my waking view thee mild
  As mother o'er her wakening child.