University of Virginia Library


184

REMEMBRANCE.

“If I forget Thee, let my right hand forget her cunning.”— Psalm CXXXVII.

Shall mortals murmur at the grave?
I weep, I worship, and obey!
When all a Father's mercy gave,
A Father's wisdom takes away.
Still live the fine, fond ties that bind
The heart to heart, the mind to mind.
The thoughts that fill the eyes with tears,
The hours of consecrated love,
The tried companionship of years,
The hope, again to meet above;
Can those be only things of air?
To doubt—were doubly anguish there.

185

If Memory, busy Memory,
Still gives the accents to our ear;
Still brings the form before our eye,
All that we loved to see, and hear—
The look, the voice, the step, so known,
We scarcely can believe them—gone!
The fond contrivances to please;
The Art, divested of all art,
To set the anxious mind at ease;
The heroism of the heart;
The sunshine of life's wintry day:
Those cannot, cannot pass away!
If Heaven has glorious mysteries,
Truths, triumphs, only known above,
Too dazzling for our mortal eyes,
The mighty miracles of Love!
Shall the pure Spirit only soar,
(All love on earth) to love no more?

186

If Friendship, beyond Mount or Main,
Still treasures all that once was dear,
And those it ne'er may see again,
Awake the wish, awake the tear.
What art thou, dread Eternity,
But loftier Mount, and broader Sea!