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WRITTEN IN A SOLITARY INN BETWEEN MUNICH AND AUGSBURGH,
August—1817.
'Tis past—the agony of Fear—
The icy grasp of Woe:
At length I may indulge the tear,
And bid its solace flow:
And dwelling on the danger past,
And anguish too severe to last,
Breathe out what weigh'd upon the heart,
And feel the plaint so pour'd a sooothing balm impart.
The icy grasp of Woe:
At length I may indulge the tear,
And bid its solace flow:
And dwelling on the danger past,
And anguish too severe to last,
Breathe out what weigh'd upon the heart,
And feel the plaint so pour'd a sooothing balm impart.
Till now, all outward grief was still,
Still as the stifled breath:
While inly spake a voice of ill,
A tongue that dwelt on death:
When Love and Duty watching round,
No solace in each other found,
But fear'd to catch a whisper'd tone,
And view in every eye the pang that dimm'd their own.
Still as the stifled breath:
While inly spake a voice of ill,
A tongue that dwelt on death:
When Love and Duty watching round,
No solace in each other found,
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And view in every eye the pang that dimm'd their own.
Sore sickness on a foreign bed
A wife and mother laid,
A Husband o'er her bow'd his head,
Her children watch'd and pray'd:
And one, who claim'd not kindred blood,
As if she ey'd her spirit, stood,
And still incessant at her side,
With toil that never tir'd, a sister's love supplied.
A wife and mother laid,
A Husband o'er her bow'd his head,
Her children watch'd and pray'd:
And one, who claim'd not kindred blood,
As if she ey'd her spirit, stood,
And still incessant at her side,
With toil that never tir'd, a sister's love supplied.
I was that Husband, I that Sire,
My Daughters vigils kept;
And thou, consum'd by fever fire,
O'er whom we watch'd and wept,
My Mary! thine that languid frame,
Which sank beneath th' internal flame,
As hour by hour, and day by day,
And night succeeding night slow wax'd and wan'd away.
My Daughters vigils kept;
And thou, consum'd by fever fire,
O'er whom we watch'd and wept,
My Mary! thine that languid frame,
Which sank beneath th' internal flame,
As hour by hour, and day by day,
And night succeeding night slow wax'd and wan'd away.
There as we watch'd thee, hour by hour,
We saw the fearful strife,
The tremulous poise of adverse pow'r,
The war of Death and Life:
When quicklier now, and quicklier prest
The hot breath heav'd the lab'ring breast,
And faintly now, and faintlier fell,
'Till in one long low sob it seem'd to breathe farewell.
We saw the fearful strife,
The tremulous poise of adverse pow'r,
The war of Death and Life:
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The hot breath heav'd the lab'ring breast,
And faintly now, and faintlier fell,
'Till in one long low sob it seem'd to breathe farewell.
But then—not then to deep despair
The heart was wholly given:
The spirit borne aloft in pray'r
Knelt at the throne of heav'n:
And when all human hope was gone,
Hung on Omnipotence alone,
On Thee, who from thy mercy-shrine
Deign'st to the cry of earth thy gracious ear incline.
The heart was wholly given:
The spirit borne aloft in pray'r
Knelt at the throne of heav'n:
And when all human hope was gone,
Hung on Omnipotence alone,
On Thee, who from thy mercy-shrine
Deign'st to the cry of earth thy gracious ear incline.
The pray'r prevail'd: we saw thee move,
And lift th' uncertain eye:
But the fond lip that sooth'd thee, love!
From thine drew no reply,
Except an inarticulate moan,
Oft broken by a deep-drawn groan,
When thy tir'd hand that toss'd the bed,
Now, wandering, grasp'd the air, now search'd the throbbing head.
And lift th' uncertain eye:
But the fond lip that sooth'd thee, love!
From thine drew no reply,
Except an inarticulate moan,
Oft broken by a deep-drawn groan,
When thy tir'd hand that toss'd the bed,
Now, wandering, grasp'd the air, now search'd the throbbing head.
'Tis past—the bitterness is past—
Awake th' enlivening strain!
Each day beams brighter than the last:
Thou art thyself again.
Thine eye the kindred eye has found,
Thine ear has drank a kindred sound:
To thee our heart's deep joy is known—
Yes—thou hast made our bliss the measure of thine own.
Awake th' enlivening strain!
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Thou art thyself again.
Thine eye the kindred eye has found,
Thine ear has drank a kindred sound:
To thee our heart's deep joy is known—
Yes—thou hast made our bliss the measure of thine own.
We shall around Love's golden chain
New links of love entwine,
And closer to our bosom strain
Each heart that lighten'd thine—
Will not that hand be fondlier press'd
That stole the anguish from thy breast,
And blessings on that brow repose
Where thou wert wont to rest, and pain's slow eye-lid close?
New links of love entwine,
And closer to our bosom strain
Each heart that lighten'd thine—
Will not that hand be fondlier press'd
That stole the anguish from thy breast,
And blessings on that brow repose
Where thou wert wont to rest, and pain's slow eye-lid close?
Let us, while life yet lasts, retain
Remembrance of that woe,
So from the couch of transient pain
See tenderest transport flow.
And when beneath o'ershadowing death,
The last “Farewell” exhausts our breath,
Oh, may we on those brows, so blest,
Clasp'd in each other's arms sink down at once to rest!
Remembrance of that woe,
So from the couch of transient pain
See tenderest transport flow.
And when beneath o'ershadowing death,
The last “Farewell” exhausts our breath,
Oh, may we on those brows, so blest,
Clasp'd in each other's arms sink down at once to rest!
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But if just heav'n that pray'r deny,
Be mine! by thee to stand,
Catch thy last look, thy farewell sigh,
And hold in death thy hand:
Then kiss ere yet to darkness giv'n,
On thy clos'd lip the seal of heav'n—
So shall thy bliss assuage my woes,
Ere, Mary! in thy tomb my Spirit find repose!
Be mine! by thee to stand,
Catch thy last look, thy farewell sigh,
And hold in death thy hand:
Then kiss ere yet to darkness giv'n,
On thy clos'd lip the seal of heav'n—
So shall thy bliss assuage my woes,
Ere, Mary! in thy tomb my Spirit find repose!
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