 | Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) |  |
94
FORGOTTEN.
In this dim shadow, where
She found the quiet which all tired hearts crave,
Now, without grief or care,
The wild bees murmur, and the blossoms wave,
And the forgetful air
Blows heedlessly across her grassy grave.
She found the quiet which all tired hearts crave,
Now, without grief or care,
The wild bees murmur, and the blossoms wave,
And the forgetful air
Blows heedlessly across her grassy grave.
Yet when she lived on earth,
She loved this leafy dell, and knew by name
All things of sylvan birth;
Squirrel and bird chirped welcome, when she came;
But now, in careless mirth,
They frisk, and build, and warble all the same.
She loved this leafy dell, and knew by name
All things of sylvan birth;
Squirrel and bird chirped welcome, when she came;
But now, in careless mirth,
They frisk, and build, and warble all the same.
From the great city near,
Wherein she toiled through life's incessant quest
For weary year on year,
Come the far voices of its deep unrest
To touch her dead, deaf ear,
And surge unechoed o'er her pulseless breast.
Wherein she toiled through life's incessant quest
For weary year on year,
Come the far voices of its deep unrest
95
And surge unechoed o'er her pulseless breast.
The hearts which clung to her
Have sought out other shrines, as all hearts must,
When Time, the comforter,
Has worn their grief out, and replaced their trust;
Not even neglect can stir
This little handful of forgotten dust.
Have sought out other shrines, as all hearts must,
When Time, the comforter,
Has worn their grief out, and replaced their trust;
Not even neglect can stir
This little handful of forgotten dust.
Grass waves, and insects hum,
And then the snow blows bitterly across;
Strange footsteps go and come,
Breaking the dew-drops on the starry moss;
She lieth still and dumb,
Counting no longer either gain or loss.
And then the snow blows bitterly across;
Strange footsteps go and come,
Breaking the dew-drops on the starry moss;
She lieth still and dumb,
Counting no longer either gain or loss.
Ah, well,—'t is better so;
Let the dust deepen as the years increase;
Of her who sleeps below
Let the name perish, and the memory cease,
Since she has come to know
That which through life she vainly prayed for,—Peace!
Let the dust deepen as the years increase;
Of her who sleeps below
Let the name perish, and the memory cease,
Since she has come to know
That which through life she vainly prayed for,—Peace!
| Poems by Elizabeth Akers (Florence Percy) | |