 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
235
CATHARINE.
Wail for the loved and gifted,
Untimely snatched away,
While golden morn gave promise
Of long, unshadowed day;
While mind with light was filling
The chambers of her brain,
And flowers of thought were growing
Like leaves in vernal rain;
While, magnet of admiring eyes,
The bowers of home she cheered,
Fond idol of parental hearts,
To old and young endeared!
Untimely snatched away,
While golden morn gave promise
Of long, unshadowed day;
While mind with light was filling
The chambers of her brain,
And flowers of thought were growing
Like leaves in vernal rain;
While, magnet of admiring eyes,
The bowers of home she cheered,
Fond idol of parental hearts,
To old and young endeared!
When, one by one, are torn away
Our dearest earth-born ties,
In vain, in vain above us spreads
The blue of summer skies—
In vain we hear the warbling bird,
Low wind and rustling leaf;
For nature hath no tone to lull
The deafened ear of grief—
Though earth is gay with blossoms,
And sunny waters roll,
A drear and wintry loneliness
Holds empire in the soul.
Our dearest earth-born ties,
In vain, in vain above us spreads
The blue of summer skies—
In vain we hear the warbling bird,
Low wind and rustling leaf;
For nature hath no tone to lull
The deafened ear of grief—
Though earth is gay with blossoms,
And sunny waters roll,
A drear and wintry loneliness
Holds empire in the soul.
We mourn not those who vanish
In the autumn time of life,
Wan with the blight of sorrow,
And weary of the strife—
Ripe for the Land of Shadows,
They seek their narrow beds,
And sweetly in the peaceful mould
Repose their pillowed heads:
But hearts should bleed and break, when Death
Unlocks his hall of frost,
And thither bears in icy arms
The loved and early lost.
In the autumn time of life,
Wan with the blight of sorrow,
And weary of the strife—
Ripe for the Land of Shadows,
236
And sweetly in the peaceful mould
Repose their pillowed heads:
But hearts should bleed and break, when Death
Unlocks his hall of frost,
And thither bears in icy arms
The loved and early lost.
But yesterday the glow of youth
Was on her radiant face,
Pure innocence in every word—
In every motion grace;
But yesterday her lustrous eye
With gentle meanings shone,
And tinted were her tuneful lips
Like roses newly blown—
Now dust and hiding darkness fill
The mansion of her rest,
And green the hillock dwells above
Her cold, insensate breast.
Was on her radiant face,
Pure innocence in every word—
In every motion grace;
But yesterday her lustrous eye
With gentle meanings shone,
And tinted were her tuneful lips
Like roses newly blown—
Now dust and hiding darkness fill
The mansion of her rest,
And green the hillock dwells above
Her cold, insensate breast.
For her harp disused to song
In vain a kinsman sweeps—
Its untaught note alone recalls
The damp earth where she sleeps:
No tone its shattered chord hath caught
From that immortal clime,
Where her unsullied spirit dwells
Triumphant over Time—
His drooping fancy cannot soar
Above the burial-sod,
And reconcile to anguished hearts
The mystic ways of God.
In vain a kinsman sweeps—
Its untaught note alone recalls
The damp earth where she sleeps:
No tone its shattered chord hath caught
From that immortal clime,
Where her unsullied spirit dwells
Triumphant over Time—
His drooping fancy cannot soar
Above the burial-sod,
And reconcile to anguished hearts
The mystic ways of God.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |