 | Ballads and Other Poems |  |
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THE DYING SISTER.
What matters it, though spring-time
Upon the earth is glowing!
What, though a thousand tender flowers
On the garden beds are blowing!
Upon the earth is glowing!
What, though a thousand tender flowers
On the garden beds are blowing!
What matters it, though pleasant birds
Among the leaves are singing;
And a myriad lives, each passing hour,
From mother-earth are springing!
Among the leaves are singing;
And a myriad lives, each passing hour,
From mother-earth are springing!
What matters it! For one bright flower
Is pale, before them lying;
And one dear life, one precious life,
Is numbered with the dying.
Is pale, before them lying;
And one dear life, one precious life,
Is numbered with the dying.
Oh! spring may come, and spring may go;
Flowers, sunshine, cannot cheer them:
This loving heart, this bright young life,
Will be no longer near them.
Flowers, sunshine, cannot cheer them:
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Will be no longer near them.
Two lights there were within the house,
Like angels round them moving;
Oh! must these two be parted now,
So lovely and so loving!
Like angels round them moving;
Oh! must these two be parted now,
So lovely and so loving!
No longer on the same soft couch
Their pleasant rest be taking!
No longer by each other's smiles
Be greeted at their waking!
Their pleasant rest be taking!
No longer by each other's smiles
Be greeted at their waking!
No longer, by each other's side,
Over one book be bending!
Take thy last look, thy last embrace,
That joy, that life, is ending.
Over one book be bending!
Take thy last look, thy last embrace,
That joy, that life, is ending.
Henceforth thou wilt be all alone;
What shalt thou do, poor weeper?
Oh, human love! oh, human woe!
Is there a pang yet deeper?
What shalt thou do, poor weeper?
Oh, human love! oh, human woe!
Is there a pang yet deeper?
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Ah! yes, the eyes perceive no more;
The last dear word is spoken;
The hand returns no pressure now;
Heart, heart, thou must be broken!
The last dear word is spoken;
The hand returns no pressure now;
Heart, heart, thou must be broken!
Can it live on without that love
For which its pulse beat ever?
Alas, that loving, trusting hearts
Must ache, and bleed, and sever!
For which its pulse beat ever?
Alas, that loving, trusting hearts
Must ache, and bleed, and sever!
Child, cease thy murmuring; God is by
To unseal that mortal prison.
Mother, look up; for, like our Lord,
Thy blessëd one is risen:
To unseal that mortal prison.
Mother, look up; for, like our Lord,
Thy blessëd one is risen:
Raise thy bowed head, poor bruisëd reed;
Hope comes to the believing.
Father, be strong, be strong in faith;
The dead, the dead is living!
Hope comes to the believing.
Father, be strong, be strong in faith;
The dead, the dead is living!
Even from outward things draw peace;
The long night-watch is ended:
The morning sun upriseth now
In new day-glory splendid.
The long night-watch is ended:
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In new day-glory splendid.
So, through the night of mortal life,
Your angel one hath striven:
The eternal suns shine not so bright
As the redeemed in heaven.
Your angel one hath striven:
The eternal suns shine not so bright
As the redeemed in heaven.
To join the spirits of the just
Your chosen hath departed:
Be comforted, be comforted,
Ye bruised and broken-hearted!
Your chosen hath departed:
Be comforted, be comforted,
Ye bruised and broken-hearted!
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