 | Lays for the Dead |  |
40
A LAMENT.
There was an eye whose partial glance,
Could ne'er my numerous failings see;
There was an ear that heard untired,
When others spoke in praise of me.
Could ne'er my numerous failings see;
There was an ear that heard untired,
When others spoke in praise of me.
There was a heart time only taught,
With warmer love for me to burn;
A heart, when'er from home I rov'd,
Which fondly pined for my return.
With warmer love for me to burn;
A heart, when'er from home I rov'd,
Which fondly pined for my return.
There was a lip which always breath'd,
E'en short farewells in tones of sadness;
There was a voice whose eager sound
My welcome spoke with heartfelt gladness.
E'en short farewells in tones of sadness;
There was a voice whose eager sound
My welcome spoke with heartfelt gladness.
41
There was a mind whose vigorous power,
On mine its own effulgence threw,
And call'd my humble talents forth,
While thence its dearest joys it drew.
On mine its own effulgence threw,
And call'd my humble talents forth,
While thence its dearest joys it drew.
There was a love, which for my weal
With anxious fears would overflow;
Which wept, which pray'd for me, and sought
From future ills to guard—but now!—
With anxious fears would overflow;
Which wept, which pray'd for me, and sought
From future ills to guard—but now!—
That eye is clos'd, and deaf that ear,
That lip and voice are mute for ever,
And cold that heart of anxious love,
Which death alone from mine could sever;
That lip and voice are mute for ever,
And cold that heart of anxious love,
Which death alone from mine could sever;
And lost to me that ardent mind,
Which lov'd my varied tasks to see;
And oh! of all the praise I gain'd,
His was the dearest far to me!
Which lov'd my varied tasks to see;
And oh! of all the praise I gain'd,
His was the dearest far to me!
42
Now I, unlov'd, uncheer'd, alone
Life's dreary wilderness must tread,
Till He who heals the broken heart,
In mercy bids me join the dead.
Life's dreary wilderness must tread,
Till He who heals the broken heart,
In mercy bids me join the dead.
O Thou! who from thy throne on high,
Canst heed the mourner's deep distress;
Oh Thou! who hear'st the widow's cry,
Thou! father of the fatherless!
Canst heed the mourner's deep distress;
Oh Thou! who hear'st the widow's cry,
Thou! father of the fatherless!
Though now I am a faded leaf,
That 's sever'd from its parent tree,
And thrown upon a stormy tide,
Life's awful tide that leads to thee;
That 's sever'd from its parent tree,
And thrown upon a stormy tide,
Life's awful tide that leads to thee;
Still, gracious Lord! the voice of praise
Shall spring spontaneous from my breast;
Since, though I tread a weary way,
I trust that he I mourn is blest.
Shall spring spontaneous from my breast;
Since, though I tread a weary way,
I trust that he I mourn is blest.
| Lays for the Dead | |