 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
550
AT THE GRAVE OF ALICE.
While yet the leafy June was here,
And fresh in loveliness the year,
And skies were bright and pure at noon,
And brooklets sang in slumberous tune,
And purple bathed the eventide,
My young life's darling, Alice, died.
And fresh in loveliness the year,
And skies were bright and pure at noon,
And brooklets sang in slumberous tune,
And purple bathed the eventide,
My young life's darling, Alice, died.
The passing world shows no surprise
Nor sorrow, when a maiden dies;
Avarice puts forth his grasp the same;
Fraud shows his usual lack of shame;
Capped Folly, grinning, shakes his bells,
And Ignorance to crime impels.
Nor sorrow, when a maiden dies;
Avarice puts forth his grasp the same;
Fraud shows his usual lack of shame;
Capped Folly, grinning, shakes his bells,
And Ignorance to crime impels.
They cannot mourn—with such as they
Hers was no sympathetic way.
Hers were the grand old woods, whose shade
Sweet calm within her bosom made;
Hers were the birds, the flowers, the rills,
The mist-crowned, everlasting hills.
Hers was no sympathetic way.
Hers were the grand old woods, whose shade
Sweet calm within her bosom made;
Hers were the birds, the flowers, the rills,
The mist-crowned, everlasting hills.
Nursling of nature, who could see
Naught dull or wrong around, was she;
But something found of new and good
In noisy street or silent wood;
And from all things the lessons drew
That made her good, and kept her true.
Naught dull or wrong around, was she;
But something found of new and good
In noisy street or silent wood;
And from all things the lessons drew
That made her good, and kept her true.
Amid the solemn solitude
Where chastened sorrow comes to brood,
Where granite shaft and marble tomb,
And plants and flowers relieve the gloom,
And song-birds haunt the leafy shade,
Lowly in earth her form we laid.
Where chastened sorrow comes to brood,
551
And plants and flowers relieve the gloom,
And song-birds haunt the leafy shade,
Lowly in earth her form we laid.
Full forty years have passed away
Since passed that unforgotten day,
And thoughts of her have grown to be
A dreamy, tender memory,
As I, long exiled from the land,
Have come beside her grave to stand.
Since passed that unforgotten day,
And thoughts of her have grown to be
A dreamy, tender memory,
As I, long exiled from the land,
Have come beside her grave to stand.
How vividly before my eyes
All things of early days arise;
The meadows green, the fields of corn,
The schoolhouse where we went at morn,
The chestnut trees upon the hill,
The long, deep pond at Sinker's mill,
All things of early days arise;
The meadows green, the fields of corn,
The schoolhouse where we went at morn,
The chestnut trees upon the hill,
The long, deep pond at Sinker's mill,
The husking in the later days,
Where, all unskilled in lovers' ways,
I won the red ear's precious right,
Yet claimed it not in others' sight,
Too timid in my bashfulness
To touch the lips I longed to press.
Where, all unskilled in lovers' ways,
I won the red ear's precious right,
Yet claimed it not in others' sight,
Too timid in my bashfulness
To touch the lips I longed to press.
The long walk homeward through the lane
Comes freshly to my mind again,
Where, in the white moon's silvery shine,
I won her promise to be mine—
No pledge in words, but sweeter still,
The glance that made each fibre thrill.
Comes freshly to my mind again,
Where, in the white moon's silvery shine,
I won her promise to be mine—
No pledge in words, but sweeter still,
The glance that made each fibre thrill.
Let all these vanish! why should I
Bring them from where they quiet lie?
I may not gain my youth once more;
I may not her to life restore;
I may not hope by these to win
From its deep grave, the might-have-been.
Bring them from where they quiet lie?
552
I may not her to life restore;
I may not hope by these to win
From its deep grave, the might-have-been.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |