 | Poems by Two Brothers |  |
36
‘TO ONE, WHOSE HOPE REPOS'D ON THEE’
“She's gone, . . .
“She sunk with her my joys entombing!”
Byron.
“She sunk with her my joys entombing!”
Byron.
To one, whose hope repos'd on thee,
Whose very life was in thine own,
How deep a wound thy death must be,
And the wild thought, that thou art gone!
Whose very life was in thine own,
How deep a wound thy death must be,
And the wild thought, that thou art gone!
Oh! must the earth-born reptiles prey
Upon that cheek of late so blooming?
Alas! this heart must wear away
Long ere that cheek they've done consuming!
Upon that cheek of late so blooming?
Alas! this heart must wear away
Long ere that cheek they've done consuming!
For hire the sexton toll'd thy bell—
But why should he receive a meed
Who work'd at least no mortal's weal,
And made one lonely bosom bleed?
But why should he receive a meed
Who work'd at least no mortal's weal,
And made one lonely bosom bleed?
37
For hire with ready mould he stood—
But why should gain his care repay
Who told, as harshly as he could,
That all I lov'd was past away?
But why should gain his care repay
Who told, as harshly as he could,
That all I lov'd was past away?
For, sure, it was too rude a blow
For Misery's ever-wakeful ear,
To cast the earth with sudden throw
Upon the grave of one so dear:
For Misery's ever-wakeful ear,
To cast the earth with sudden throw
Upon the grave of one so dear:
For aye these bitter tears must swell,
Tho' the sad scene is past and gone;
And still I hear the tolling bell,
For Memory makes each sense her own.
Tho' the sad scene is past and gone;
And still I hear the tolling bell,
For Memory makes each sense her own.
But stay, my soul! thy plaint forbear,
And be thy murm'ring song forgiven!
Tread but the path of Virtue here,
And thou shalt meet with her in heaven!
And be thy murm'ring song forgiven!
Tread but the path of Virtue here,
And thou shalt meet with her in heaven!
C. T.
| Poems by Two Brothers | |