 | Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems |  |
TO LITTLE LIZA IN HEAVEN.
Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it; if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, it would utterly be contemned.—
Solomon's Songs.
Whither, my absent one!
Oh! whither hast thy dove-like beauty fled?
Thou pure bright gem! that leavest thy pearls alone,
To join earth's mighty dead!
And has thy soul into heaven been led,
To dwell where we that have been shall be?
Where those that mourn shall rejoice with thee?
Whither, young frightened dove!
My long-loved Liza! hast thy spirit flown?
By what soft hand hast thou been led above?
Oh! make thy passport known,
And soothe my heart with thy cherub tone!
That when my soul shall ascend into rest,
The soft blue heavens may pillow my breast,
And meeting thee—hallowed—divine—
The angels may mingle my spirit with thine!
Oh! whither hast thy dove-like beauty fled?
Thou pure bright gem! that leavest thy pearls alone,
To join earth's mighty dead!
And has thy soul into heaven been led,
To dwell where we that have been shall be?
Where those that mourn shall rejoice with thee?
76
My long-loved Liza! hast thy spirit flown?
By what soft hand hast thou been led above?
Oh! make thy passport known,
And soothe my heart with thy cherub tone!
That when my soul shall ascend into rest,
The soft blue heavens may pillow my breast,
And meeting thee—hallowed—divine—
The angels may mingle my spirit with thine!
Whither, since life was new,
When thou wert star-like under heaven above—
A light undimmed though seen from distant view—
Hast thou been borne, my love?
Whither, through burning skies,
From woodbine alcoves where our joys were fleet—
Where matin song-birds wooed away our sighs—
More sorrowful than sweet—
Oh! whither shall my spirit track thy feet,
Sweet heir unto blessedness more than divine?
A brighter star than those which tune their spheres
To heaven's deep roundelay!
Whither, from many tears,
O! whither dost thy spirit wing its way,
To tune my harp unto glory like thine?
Whither, with angels, dear!
A star that shone above life's fearful sea—
The brightest gem of even!
Oh! wherefore hast thou left my spirit here,
To make thy home in heaven!
When thou wert star-like under heaven above—
A light undimmed though seen from distant view—
Hast thou been borne, my love?
Whither, through burning skies,
From woodbine alcoves where our joys were fleet—
Where matin song-birds wooed away our sighs—
More sorrowful than sweet—
Oh! whither shall my spirit track thy feet,
Sweet heir unto blessedness more than divine?
A brighter star than those which tune their spheres
To heaven's deep roundelay!
Whither, from many tears,
O! whither dost thy spirit wing its way,
To tune my harp unto glory like thine?
Whither, with angels, dear!
A star that shone above life's fearful sea—
The brightest gem of even!
Oh! wherefore hast thou left my spirit here,
To make thy home in heaven!
Gone, evermore from me!
Oh! loved one! gone forevermore!
For thou shalt never be,
As thou wert once, upon this barren shore!
Oh! never more at noon,
Nor eventide, wilt thou resume the song!
And never in June,
Be seen beside still waters, where the birds
Were all asleep!
Nor whisper unto me those holy words
That make my spirit weep!
But long—long!
Oh! longer than my soul shall live to tell—
Wilt thou ascend to rest!
And there with thy Jehovah dwell,
And live upon his breast!
For never, never more,
While yon eternal sun shall roll on high—
The moon reign mistress of the sea—
The stars sing hallelujahs in the sky—
Nor while eternity shall roll
To reap enjoyment for the soul—
Wilt thou be seen upon this shore!
Oh! this hath made me sad!
But when life's sorrows shall be o'er,
I will be glad;
And have my troubles swallowed in the sea
Of endless life, great God! with thee.
Oh! loved one! gone forevermore!
77
As thou wert once, upon this barren shore!
Oh! never more at noon,
Nor eventide, wilt thou resume the song!
And never in June,
Be seen beside still waters, where the birds
Were all asleep!
Nor whisper unto me those holy words
That make my spirit weep!
But long—long!
Oh! longer than my soul shall live to tell—
Wilt thou ascend to rest!
And there with thy Jehovah dwell,
And live upon his breast!
For never, never more,
While yon eternal sun shall roll on high—
The moon reign mistress of the sea—
The stars sing hallelujahs in the sky—
Nor while eternity shall roll
To reap enjoyment for the soul—
Wilt thou be seen upon this shore!
Oh! this hath made me sad!
But when life's sorrows shall be o'er,
I will be glad;
And have my troubles swallowed in the sea
Of endless life, great God! with thee.
| Nacoochee ; or, the beautiful star, with other Poems | |