 | The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley |  |
480
A MOTHER'S DIRGE
The infants of her love surround her urn,
Year after year with unenduring wreath.
Can eyes that moisten or can lips that burn
Bring comfort to the sleeper underneath.
Year after year with unenduring wreath.
Can eyes that moisten or can lips that burn
Bring comfort to the sleeper underneath.
The dim sweet face fades from them, day by day,
Grief is sincere, but youth and life are strong.
Time dries the tear from sorrow's cheek away,
And children's eyes weep nothing very long.
Grief is sincere, but youth and life are strong.
Time dries the tear from sorrow's cheek away,
And children's eyes weep nothing very long.
And the pale mother soon shall these forget;
Yea, they that clung as children at her breast.
The shadowy mother of a dim regret
Out in the lonely grasses of her rest.
Yea, they that clung as children at her breast.
The shadowy mother of a dim regret
Out in the lonely grasses of her rest.
All things are broken on the wheels of Fate,
Sorrow herself is vassal to decay,
And far beyond the blessed sunset gates,
The winds wail dirge for those who fade away.
Sorrow herself is vassal to decay,
And far beyond the blessed sunset gates,
The winds wail dirge for those who fade away.
| The Collected Poems of Lord De Tabley | |