 | Miscellaneous Poems |  |
6
A. B.
[They call'd my Grief an idle tale]
They call'd my Grief an idle tale,
They said such weakness leads to woe;
I said,—“that substance passeth show,
And truth doth evermore prevail.”
They said such weakness leads to woe;
I said,—“that substance passeth show,
And truth doth evermore prevail.”
They said,—Death even now doth stand
'Twixt her and you, and still you grieve,
As one unwillingly doth leave
The hopes that elsewhere he hath plann'd.
'Twixt her and you, and still you grieve,
As one unwillingly doth leave
The hopes that elsewhere he hath plann'd.
They told me, these were fancies wild,
Wild fancies of the wilder'd brain;
And then I answered them again;—
One knelt beside a dying child,
Wild fancies of the wilder'd brain;
And then I answered them again;—
One knelt beside a dying child,
He listened to her latest prayer;
He heard on earth her closing sigh,
To him she turn'd her fainting eye,
No marvel,—if his heart be there;
He heard on earth her closing sigh,
To him she turn'd her fainting eye,
No marvel,—if his heart be there;
Life's lengthening shadows deeper grow,
What most I love, is in the grave;
Oh! memory! ever faithful, save,
The thoughts of those I lov'd below.
What most I love, is in the grave;
Oh! memory! ever faithful, save,
The thoughts of those I lov'd below.
| Miscellaneous Poems | |