 | [Poems by Whittier in] A Study of Whittier's Apprenticeship as a Poet |  |
239
STANZAS
[_]
Written on reading the memoirs of Lucretia Maria Davidson, who died at the age of 17. Her poetical writings have attracted attention not only in this country but in Europe.
Beautiful being! thou hast gone
Unblemished from a sinful world—
And, where the star of promise shone
The pinion of thy spirit furled!
And it may not be well to weep
Above thy grassy sepulchre;
Nor over Death's unheeding sleep
The chords of vain affection stir:—
For thou wert taken back to Him
Who gave thee as a blessing here,
Before an earthly cloud could dim
The beauty of thy atmosphere!—
A spirit of a higher mould—
A being unallied to earth—
A gift of song which scarcely told
Its eloquence and priceless worth,
Ere it had passed away to God,—
These were the tokens of thy stay—
These—the bright treasures cast abroad
Like sunbeams in thy youthful way.
Unblemished from a sinful world—
And, where the star of promise shone
The pinion of thy spirit furled!
And it may not be well to weep
Above thy grassy sepulchre;
Nor over Death's unheeding sleep
The chords of vain affection stir:—
For thou wert taken back to Him
Who gave thee as a blessing here,
Before an earthly cloud could dim
The beauty of thy atmosphere!—
A spirit of a higher mould—
A being unallied to earth—
A gift of song which scarcely told
Its eloquence and priceless worth,
Ere it had passed away to God,—
These were the tokens of thy stay—
These—the bright treasures cast abroad
Like sunbeams in thy youthful way.
The smile of beauty sat upon
Thy forehead like an eagle's crown—
Thy heart was as an altar stone
On which the fire of Heaven came down,
And kindled to a burning gem
Each thought which genius scattered there,
And glowing Fancy gave to them,
The light which morning visions wear!—
Thy forehead like an eagle's crown—
Thy heart was as an altar stone
On which the fire of Heaven came down,
And kindled to a burning gem
Each thought which genius scattered there,
And glowing Fancy gave to them,
The light which morning visions wear!—
Peace to thy sleeping!—o'er the green
And grassy quiet of thy bed,
The beautiful in tears shall lean—
The strong man hush his stately tread.
Thy songs shall live amidst the tall,
Green places of thy native hills,
And echo with the fountain-fall,
And murmur with the sun-lit rills,—
And fresher than the loveliest flower
Which bloomed beneath the living eye,
Thy fame shall know no Autumn hour,
Or fold its greenness up to die!—
And grassy quiet of thy bed,
The beautiful in tears shall lean—
The strong man hush his stately tread.
Thy songs shall live amidst the tall,
Green places of thy native hills,
And echo with the fountain-fall,
And murmur with the sun-lit rills,—
240
Which bloomed beneath the living eye,
Thy fame shall know no Autumn hour,
Or fold its greenness up to die!—
New England Weekly Review, February 6, 1832
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