 | The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury |  |
STANZAS.
Dearest, a mournful strain is all the New Year's gift I bring,
For images of by-gone years throng round me as I sing;
My spirit's joyousness is gone, I can no longer fling
The sunshine of a happy heart o'er every earthly thing.
For images of by-gone years throng round me as I sing;
My spirit's joyousness is gone, I can no longer fling
The sunshine of a happy heart o'er every earthly thing.
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A shadow lies upon my path which naught can chase away,
Save the great Sun of Righteousness with healing in its ray;
A shadow from the mountain dark o'er which our feet must tread,
To meet again our loved of yore, our treasures of the dead.
Save the great Sun of Righteousness with healing in its ray;
A shadow from the mountain dark o'er which our feet must tread,
To meet again our loved of yore, our treasures of the dead.
That shadow lies upon my path, and pleasures 'neath its gloom,
Like flowerets grown in darkness, now have lost their brilliant bloom;
My days of buoyant happiness have with my youth been spent,
Yet will I strive, whate'er my lot, therewith to be content!
Like flowerets grown in darkness, now have lost their brilliant bloom;
My days of buoyant happiness have with my youth been spent,
Yet will I strive, whate'er my lot, therewith to be content!
Alas! the magic cup of life but sparkles near the brim;
The music of this weary world is but a morning hymn;
And like a wingèd dream of night our youthful days depart,
Leaving but half-traced images within the saddened heart.
The music of this weary world is but a morning hymn;
And like a wingèd dream of night our youthful days depart,
Leaving but half-traced images within the saddened heart.
Yes, all our joys in after years are like Egyptian feasts,
Where Memory's veiled and shrouded form sits first amid the guests;
In vain the gay laugh circles round, the wine-cup mantles high,
The glitter but of unshed tears lights up the listless eye.
Where Memory's veiled and shrouded form sits first amid the guests;
In vain the gay laugh circles round, the wine-cup mantles high,
The glitter but of unshed tears lights up the listless eye.
| The poems of Mrs. Emma Catherine Embury | |