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124
SHE DIED LIKE THE GEM OF THE ROSES.
When the rose-buds half-blown were perfuming
With their breath the soft zephyr of May,
In her life's early morn she was blooming,
And in beauty all stainless as they.
But she dropped like the gem of the roses,
That is snapped from its tree by the blast!
And in death her young form now reposes,
Like a flower whence the essence hath past.
With their breath the soft zephyr of May,
In her life's early morn she was blooming,
And in beauty all stainless as they.
But she dropped like the gem of the roses,
That is snapped from its tree by the blast!
And in death her young form now reposes,
Like a flower whence the essence hath past.
She was fair as the snow-petalled lily;
She was pure as the dew on its bell;
When to yon dreamless bed, dank and chilly,
In the chamber of silence, she fell.
And her voice with rich music so sweetly
In its soul-touching numbers had gushed,—
O, it seemed, when she vanished so fleetly,
That the lips of a seraph were hushed.
She was pure as the dew on its bell;
When to yon dreamless bed, dank and chilly,
In the chamber of silence, she fell.
And her voice with rich music so sweetly
In its soul-touching numbers had gushed,—
O, it seemed, when she vanished so fleetly,
That the lips of a seraph were hushed.
And her name, since life's tenure is broken,
For the organs that time may attune
Is too sacred, and ne'er should be spoken,
Save as we with the blest may commune.
While her heart, young, and guileless, and tender.
Was of love, truth, and virtue the shrine,
She 'd to dust a thin veil but to render,
In a glory immortal to shine.
For the organs that time may attune
Is too sacred, and ne'er should be spoken,
Save as we with the blest may commune.
While her heart, young, and guileless, and tender.
Was of love, truth, and virtue the shrine,
She 'd to dust a thin veil but to render,
In a glory immortal to shine.
125
And, perhaps, o'er us now she is bending,
With a smile, from her pure, holy sphere;
Or, an angel of mercy, descending
On a mission of love to us here.
For her spirit, so truthful! it never
Can forget, 'mid the bright ones above—
She 'll remember and cherish for ever—
Whom so fondly on earth she could love.
With a smile, from her pure, holy sphere;
Or, an angel of mercy, descending
On a mission of love to us here.
For her spirit, so truthful! it never
Can forget, 'mid the bright ones above—
She 'll remember and cherish for ever—
Whom so fondly on earth she could love.
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