 | Poems Chiefly Lyric and Elegiac |  |
102
A DEATHBED: JULY 1ST, 18—.
This is the very room in which she died:
I know it well; and when the moonlight falls,
As now it falls, upon her little bed,
How white the bed looks—like her own frail form
When she was dying!
I know it well; and when the moonlight falls,
As now it falls, upon her little bed,
How white the bed looks—like her own frail form
When she was dying!
Yet she did not die
By moonlight, like our leader, Tennyson:
He, after so much waiting, so much grief
And glory, and such happiest renown
Of blessing others as himself was blest,
And making sorrow fruitfuller than joy,
He, with the milder radiance round his head,
Pass'd to that gracious Country whence he came.
By moonlight, like our leader, Tennyson:
He, after so much waiting, so much grief
And glory, and such happiest renown
Of blessing others as himself was blest,
And making sorrow fruitfuller than joy,
He, with the milder radiance round his head,
Pass'd to that gracious Country whence he came.
103
But she went thither on a summer's morn;
Round her fair dwelling all the garden rang
With songs of birds, and fragrant odours breathed
From many a flower to soothe her, and the sun
Lighted her onward to that place of rest
Wherein her husband stood awaiting her.
Round her fair dwelling all the garden rang
With songs of birds, and fragrant odours breathed
From many a flower to soothe her, and the sun
Lighted her onward to that place of rest
Wherein her husband stood awaiting her.
She did not say a word, before she died;
But she look'd up, and with her soft blue eyes
She saw him, clad already in the glow
Of such a state of Being as to her
Was new and most transcendent, but to him
Familiar now; and thus he welcomed her,
His lifelong wife, to that still fairer home.
But she look'd up, and with her soft blue eyes
She saw him, clad already in the glow
Of such a state of Being as to her
Was new and most transcendent, but to him
Familiar now; and thus he welcomed her,
His lifelong wife, to that still fairer home.
We too, perchance, shall join her at the last;
If we are like her, or in any wise
Can compass such a journey, such an end.
Meanwhile, she still is with us; and abides,
A charming Presence, in the faithful hearts
Of many folk, and most of all in mine.
If we are like her, or in any wise
Can compass such a journey, such an end.
Meanwhile, she still is with us; and abides,
A charming Presence, in the faithful hearts
Of many folk, and most of all in mine.
| Poems Chiefly Lyric and Elegiac | |