The three following poetical essays are on 'Caroline,' under which name Branwell indicates his sister Maria; and, in two of them, he records his reminiscences of her death and funeral obsequies. The first of the three, which he has framed in the sentiments and words of a child, is entitled: CAROLINE'S PRAYER, OR THE CHANGE FROM CHILDHOOD TO WOMANHOOD. 'My Father, and my childhood's guide! If oft I've wandered far from Thee; E'en though Thine only Son has died To save from death a child like me; 'O! still--to Thee when turns my heart In hours of sadness, frequent now-- Be Thou the God that once Thou wert, And calm my breast, and clear my brow. 'I'm now no more a little child O'ershadowed by Thy mighty wing; My very dreams seem now more wild Than those my slumbers used to bring. 'I further see--I deeper feel-- With hope more warm, but heart less mild; And former things new shapes reveal, All strangely brightened or despoiled. 'I'm entering on Life's open tide; So--farewell childhood's shores divine! And, oh, my Father, deign to guide, Through these wide waters, Caroline!' The second is: ON CAROLINE. 'The light of thy ancestral hall, Thy Caroline, no longer smiles: She has changed her palace for a pall, Her garden walks for minster aisles: Eternal sleep has stilled her breast Where peace and pleasure made their shrine; Her golden head has sunk to rest-- Oh, would that rest made calmer mine! 'To thee, while watching o'er the bed Where, mute and motionless, she lay, How slow the midnight moments sped! How void of sunlight woke the day! Nor ope'd her eyes to morning's beam, Though all around thee woke to her; Nor broke thy raven-pinioned dream Of coffin, shroud, and sepulchre. 'Why beats thy breast when hers is still? Why linger'st thou when she is gone? Hop'st thou to light on good or ill? To find companionship alone? Perhaps thou think'st the churchyard stone Can hide past smiles and bury sighs: That Memory, with her soul, has flown; That thou canst leave her where she lies. 'No! joy _itself_ is but a shade, So well may its remembrance die; But cares, life's conquerors, never fade, So strong is their reality! Thou may'st forget the day which gave That child of beauty to thy side, But not the moment when the grave Took back again thy borrowed bride.' Here Branwell, though he has changed the form of expression and the circumstance of the loss, is still occupied with the same theme of family bereavement, with which Charlotte herself was so much impressed.