 | [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes |  |
388
THE PLACE OF GRAVES.
How often in the summers gone,
I 've stood where these memorials rise,
And every time the spot had grown
Less and less lonely to mine eyes.
I 've stood where these memorials rise,
And every time the spot had grown
Less and less lonely to mine eyes.
The first I ever loved that died
Sleeps here, where these sweet roses wave;
A maiden, with life's path untried,
She left the sunshine for the grave.
Sleeps here, where these sweet roses wave;
A maiden, with life's path untried,
She left the sunshine for the grave.
And what a place of desolate gloom
Seemed then to me the realm of death,
Though she I loved went calmly down,
In all the truthfulness of faith.
Seemed then to me the realm of death,
Though she I loved went calmly down,
In all the truthfulness of faith.
The next, a sweet lamb of the fold,
An infant, lulled to slumber lay,
With her pale locks of finest gold
Put softly from her brow away.
An infant, lulled to slumber lay,
With her pale locks of finest gold
Put softly from her brow away.
But when the patient mother prest
To her meek lips the bitter cup,
And came with those she loved to rest,
Till God shall call the sleepers up,
To her meek lips the bitter cup,
And came with those she loved to rest,
Till God shall call the sleepers up,
Then the dim pathway grew more clear,
That leads through darkness to the light,
And death has never seemed so drear,
Nor heaven so distant from my sight.
That leads through darkness to the light,
And death has never seemed so drear,
Nor heaven so distant from my sight.
| [Poems by Cary in] The poems of Alice and Phoebe Cary with introduction and notes | |