University of Virginia Library


25

LINES AFTER MY FATHER'S DEATH.

[_]

(Written in his accustomed walk.)

Another Sabbath-day
Now wraps the meads in mist;
Another sun's declined autumnal ray
Now shines upon these pastures hoar and gray,
That long thy steps have missed.

26

Chilled with the year's decline;
I pluck the crimson bloom with reverent tear,
And scatter it on thine autumnal bier,
With this unpolished rhyme.
Thou, like the autumnal rose,
Careless of storms unkind,
Flungest thy fragrance on the world around;
Now, plucked by God, a lasting home hast found,
Sheltered from winter's wind.
November 1843.