 | Poems |  |
“HÆRET LATERI.”
Why dost thou wear thy mother's name,
Her trick of speech, her lonely eyes,
And set the sorrow all aflame
That smouldering deep in ashes lies
Her trick of speech, her lonely eyes,
And set the sorrow all aflame
That smouldering deep in ashes lies
We think that grief for aye is gone
When time has dried our daily tears,
And anguish made its last faint moan,
Choked with the dust of frequent years.
When time has dried our daily tears,
And anguish made its last faint moan,
Choked with the dust of frequent years.
With shrouded heart and smiling face,
Idly we tread the ways of men;
We hide our dead in some still place,
And think they never rise again.
Idly we tread the ways of men;
We hide our dead in some still place,
And think they never rise again.
291
Oh, futile courage of despair!
Poor subterfuge of hearts that break!
What death can stop the pulse of care?
What memory sleep, and never wake?
Poor subterfuge of hearts that break!
What death can stop the pulse of care?
What memory sleep, and never wake?
Ambushed on every mortal path,
Veiled by the very wreaths of joy,
Lies eager Fate's relentless wrath,
And waits its moment to destroy.
Veiled by the very wreaths of joy,
Lies eager Fate's relentless wrath,
And waits its moment to destroy.
A step—and all our dream is fled:
The looks, the tones, we knew of yore,
The silent faces of the dead,
Turned sadly to that other shore
The looks, the tones, we knew of yore,
The silent faces of the dead,
Turned sadly to that other shore
The unresponding cruel lips,
The frozen lids, the pallid cheek,
An instant flash from death's eclipse,
The clear eyes shine, the red lips speak.
The frozen lids, the pallid cheek,
An instant flash from death's eclipse,
The clear eyes shine, the red lips speak.
And where one burning tear of woe
On the new grave in silence fell,
A thousand drops fall hot and slow,
The longer agony to tell.
On the new grave in silence fell,
A thousand drops fall hot and slow,
The longer agony to tell.
For joy is but the dreamer's part,
That taunts the soul and mocks the eye;
But sorrow clings, and cleaves the heart,
Till heart and grief together die.
That taunts the soul and mocks the eye;
But sorrow clings, and cleaves the heart,
Till heart and grief together die.
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