 | The Death-Wake |  |
We found them,—children of toil and tears,
Their birth of beauty shaded;
We left them in their early years
Fallen and faded.
Their birth of beauty shaded;
We left them in their early years
Fallen and faded.
We found them, flowers of summer hue:
Their golden cups were lighted
With sparkles of the pearly dew—
We left them blighted!
Their golden cups were lighted
With sparkles of the pearly dew—
We left them blighted!
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We found them,—like those fairy flowers;
And the light of morn lay holy
Over their sad and sainted bowers—
We left them, lowly.
And the light of morn lay holy
Over their sad and sainted bowers—
We left them, lowly.
We found them,—like twin stars, alone,
In brightness and in feeling;
We left them,—and the curse was on
Their beauty stealing.
In brightness and in feeling;
We left them,—and the curse was on
Their beauty stealing.
They rest in quiet, where they are:
Their lifetime is the story
Of some fair flower—some silver star,
Faded in glory!
Their lifetime is the story
Of some fair flower—some silver star,
Faded in glory!
| The Death-Wake | |