Gerard's Monument And Other Poems. By Emily Pfeiffer: 2nd Ed., Revised and Enlarged |
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| VI. |
 | Gerard's Monument |  |
Saint Saviour's Church lies buried deep,
It stood on the land, it fell on the shore,
And buried the graves where the dead are asleep,—
The dead who were buried long years before;
And over the marble, and over the turf,
The sand is washed by the moaning surf.
It stood on the land, it fell on the shore,
And buried the graves where the dead are asleep,—
The dead who were buried long years before;
And over the marble, and over the turf,
The sand is washed by the moaning surf.
And down beneath both surf and sand,
Over the buried bones of men,
Are labours of many a cunning hand
Passed with the labourer out of ken,—
Sculptured figures that seem to pray,
With up-turned eyes that look for the day.
Over the buried bones of men,
Are labours of many a cunning hand
Passed with the labourer out of ken,—
Sculptured figures that seem to pray,
With up-turned eyes that look for the day.
4
And fisher-wives that dwell thereby,—
For a hamlet sits on the buried town,
(A town and a storm-beaten keep stood nigh
To the church when together they all went down),
These fisher-wives through the wild dark nights,
Will tell each other of eerie sights.
For a hamlet sits on the buried town,
(A town and a storm-beaten keep stood nigh
To the church when together they all went down),
These fisher-wives through the wild dark nights,
Will tell each other of eerie sights.
And telling each other of eerie sights,
Will pause to listen to eerie sounds;—
A sea-bird dazed with its short wild flights,
Flapping the casement, or over the mounds,
And down below in the hollow caves,
The sob of the surf o'er the buried graves.
Will pause to listen to eerie sounds;—
A sea-bird dazed with its short wild flights,
Flapping the casement, or over the mounds,
And down below in the hollow caves,
The sob of the surf o'er the buried graves.
But when there comes a sound of rapping,
The fisher-wives then hold their breath,
Or whisper: “The goldsmith to-night is tapping
The silver image that lies beneath,
And covers the coffin that shuts in the wife
Was nearer and dearer to him than his life.”
The fisher-wives then hold their breath,
Or whisper: “The goldsmith to-night is tapping
The silver image that lies beneath,
And covers the coffin that shuts in the wife
Was nearer and dearer to him than his life.”
5
Valery, Valery! thou hast come,—
A name that floats on the waves of time,—
A voice when the voices around thee are dumb,—
A wandering spirit when manhood's prime,
And knightly honour, and wealth and worth
Are buried beside thee in sand and earth.
A name that floats on the waves of time,—
A voice when the voices around thee are dumb,—
A wandering spirit when manhood's prime,
And knightly honour, and wealth and worth
Are buried beside thee in sand and earth.
Valery, Valery! what hast thou done,
What hast thou been that thy name should abide?
Thou hast lived and loved in the light of the sun,—
Lived a little, loved much, and died;—
But thou hast so suffered, that true hearts keep
The print of a sorrow that struck so deep.
What hast thou been that thy name should abide?
Thou hast lived and loved in the light of the sun,—
Lived a little, loved much, and died;—
But thou hast so suffered, that true hearts keep
The print of a sorrow that struck so deep.
| Gerard's Monument | |