 | Farm legends |  |
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THE LITTLE SLEEPER.
There is mourning in the cottage as the twilight shadows fall,
For a little rose-wood coffin has been brought into the hall,
And a little pallid sleeper,
In a slumber colder, deeper
Than the days of life could give her, in its narrow borders lies,
With the sweet and changeful lustre ever faded from her eyes.
For a little rose-wood coffin has been brought into the hall,
And a little pallid sleeper,
In a slumber colder, deeper
Than the days of life could give her, in its narrow borders lies,
With the sweet and changeful lustre ever faded from her eyes.
Since the morning of her coming, but a score of suns had set,
And the strangeness of the dawning of her life is with her yet;
And the dainty lips asunder
Are a little pressed with wonder,
And her smiling bears the traces of a shadow of surprise;
But the wondering mind that made it looks no more from out her eyes.
And the strangeness of the dawning of her life is with her yet;
And the dainty lips asunder
Are a little pressed with wonder,
And her smiling bears the traces of a shadow of surprise;
But the wondering mind that made it looks no more from out her eyes.
'Twas a soul upon a journey, and was lost upon its way;
'Twas a flash of light from heaven on a tiny piece of clay;
'Twas more timid, and yet bolder,
It was younger, and yet older,
It was weaker, and yet stronger, than this little human guise,
With the strange unearthly lustre ever faded from its eyes.
'Twas a flash of light from heaven on a tiny piece of clay;
'Twas more timid, and yet bolder,
It was younger, and yet older,
It was weaker, and yet stronger, than this little human guise,
With the strange unearthly lustre ever faded from its eyes.
They will bury her the morrow; they will mourn her as she died;
I will bury her the morrow, and another by her side;
For the raven hair, but started,
Soon a maiden would have parted,
Full of fitful joy and sorrow—gladly gay and sadly wise;
With a dash of worldly mischief in her deep and changeful eyes.
I will bury her the morrow, and another by her side;
For the raven hair, but started,
Soon a maiden would have parted,
Full of fitful joy and sorrow—gladly gay and sadly wise;
With a dash of worldly mischief in her deep and changeful eyes.
I will bury her the morrow, and another by her side:
It shall be a wife and mother, full of love and care and pride;
Full of hope, and of misgiving;
Of the joys and griefs of living;
Of the pains of others' being, and the tears of others' cries;
With the love of God encompassed in her smiling, weeping eyes.
It shall be a wife and mother, full of love and care and pride;
Full of hope, and of misgiving;
Of the joys and griefs of living;
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With the love of God encompassed in her smiling, weeping eyes.
I will bury on the morrow, too, a grandame, wrinkled, old;
One whose pleasures of the present were the joys that had been told;
I will bury one whose blessing
Was the transport of caressing
Every joy that she had buried—every lost and broken prize;
With a gleam of heaven-expected, in her dim and longing eyes.
One whose pleasures of the present were the joys that had been told;
I will bury one whose blessing
Was the transport of caressing
Every joy that she had buried—every lost and broken prize;
With a gleam of heaven-expected, in her dim and longing eyes.
I will joy for her to-morrow, as I see her compassed in;
For the lips now pure and holy might be some time stained with sin;
And the brow now white and stainless,
And the heart now light and painless,
Might have throbbed with guilty passion, and with sin-encumbered sighs
Might have surged the sea of brightness in the sweet and changeful eyes.
For the lips now pure and holy might be some time stained with sin;
And the brow now white and stainless,
And the heart now light and painless,
Might have throbbed with guilty passion, and with sin-encumbered sighs
Might have surged the sea of brightness in the sweet and changeful eyes.
Let them bury her to-morrow—let them treasure her away;
Let the soul go back to heaven, and the body back to clay;
Let the future grief here hidden,
Let the happiness forbidden,
Be for evermore forgotten, and be buried as it dies;
And an angel let us see her, with our sad and weeping eyes.
Let the soul go back to heaven, and the body back to clay;
Let the future grief here hidden,
Let the happiness forbidden,
Be for evermore forgotten, and be buried as it dies;
And an angel let us see her, with our sad and weeping eyes.
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