 | Poems by Miss H. F. Gould |  |
133
SHE DIED, AS DAWNED HER NATAL DAY.
She died, as dawned her natal day!
Amid the buds and flowers of May
Her spirit left the beauteous clay,
In death's deep slumber here;
And mounting up her starry way,
Attained that holier sphere,
Where falls no night o'er birth-day light—
No sorrow brings a tear.
Amid the buds and flowers of May
Her spirit left the beauteous clay,
In death's deep slumber here;
And mounting up her starry way,
Attained that holier sphere,
Where falls no night o'er birth-day light—
No sorrow brings a tear.
The joy and glory of the skies
With radiance fill her heavenly eyes,
Where thornless flowers around her rise,
And founts that ne'er shall fail;
While here her form so lowly lies
All silent, cold and pale;
Where dews distil, and night-winds chill
Moan through the shadowy vale.
With radiance fill her heavenly eyes,
Where thornless flowers around her rise,
And founts that ne'er shall fail;
While here her form so lowly lies
All silent, cold and pale;
Where dews distil, and night-winds chill
Moan through the shadowy vale.
| Poems by Miss H. F. Gould | |