 | Poems by Sarah Helen Whitman |  |
93
[IV. We met beneath September's gorgeous beams]
We met beneath September's gorgeous beams:Long in my house of life thy star had reigned;
Its mournful splendor trembled through my dreams,
Nor with the night's phantasmal glories waned.
We wandered thoughtfully o'er golden meads
To a lone woodland, lit by starry flowers,
Where a wild, solitary pathway leads
Through mouldering sepulchres and cypress bowers.
A dreamy sadness filled the autumnal air;—
By a low, nameless grave I stood beside thee,
My heart according to thy murmured prayer
The full, sweet answers that my lips denied thee.
O mournful faith, on that dread altar sealed—
Sad dawn of love in realms of death revealed!
| Poems by Sarah Helen Whitman | |