 | Dryburgh Abbey and other poems |  |
THEY ARE NO MORE.
They are no more! O, dull and drear,
Sound those bereaving, mournful words;
Affliction finds no wilder tear—
Memory no darker doom records;
Not in our homes, not by our side,
Move the bright beings we deplore;
The hearts which love had sanctified,
They are no more!
Sound those bereaving, mournful words;
Affliction finds no wilder tear—
Memory no darker doom records;
Not in our homes, not by our side,
Move the bright beings we deplore;
The hearts which love had sanctified,
They are no more!
Oh, breathes there one that hath not known
The parting word—the dying look—
While in the soul grief walked alone,
And every pulse with anguish shook:
Some cherished one that blessed him there—
And passed—as sunlight from the shore?
Woe! woe! the young—the loved—the fair—
They are no more!
The parting word—the dying look—
While in the soul grief walked alone,
And every pulse with anguish shook:
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And passed—as sunlight from the shore?
Woe! woe! the young—the loved—the fair—
They are no more!
The music of their lips hath fled,
Their grace and beauty passed away;
Yet lives the presence of the dead
Within our souls, as light in day!
A fresher light shall burst the tomb,
And all the blesséd lost restore;
Unknown those words of wail and gloom—
They are no more!
Their grace and beauty passed away;
Yet lives the presence of the dead
Within our souls, as light in day!
A fresher light shall burst the tomb,
And all the blesséd lost restore;
Unknown those words of wail and gloom—
They are no more!
| Dryburgh Abbey and other poems | |