University of Virginia Library

Yonder on that wall displayed,
Children three behold pourtrayed,
The resemblances of life,
With the truth of nature rife:
See one gentle girl is there,
And of boys a laughing pair;
And, by God's good grace, the three
Round about our hearths we see,
Filling still our home with glee.

But that loved one, who has left
Us of so much joy bereft,
Whom our yearning hearts require,
Whom our aching eyes desire,
We, alas! have not of him
Even this poor memorial dim.
Oh unhappy chance! the three
Whom around us still we see,
Whom at any hour we may—
Every hour of every day—
To our bosoms fold and press,
Visions of delight that bless
Daily our glad eyes, and still
With their living voices fill
Full of joyfulness our bowers,
Triad sweet that still are ours;
We may on their portraits feed,
In this richer than we need.

But that loved one, loved and lost,
Who has left our life's bleak coast,
After whom our eyes we strain,
Whom we listen for in vain,
For he comes, he comes not back,
Well-a-day! of him we lack
Rudest effort that should trace
The dear features of his face;
Which if it had truly caught,
Though by artless limner wrought,
It had still been in our eyes
Dearer relic, costlier prize,
Than great work of master's hand,
By far-famëd artist planned,
Looking clamly from the wall
Of some old ancestral hall.

And already, when I strive
That lost image to revive,
And his very self to paint
On my mind's eye, dim and faint
Come those features, indistinct,
Or with that last suffering linked;
Or if they distinct and clear
For a moment may appear,
Soon they fade anew, and seem
Like the picture of a dream,
Or cloud-vision, which the breath
Of the light wind scattereth.

Years will roll, and dim and dimmer,
Through their mists, will faintly glimmer
That loved image, which e'en now
Comes not freely to my vow,
Which already memory's wand
Is not potent to command
At its bidding.—Let it be,
Let me lose all trace of thee,—
Of the earthly casket, which
Once a heavenly gem made rich,—
Of that shape which in my sight
Glanced an apparition bright;
So that fresh in me I find
The dear features of thy mind,
So that these continue still,
And the haunts of memory fill—
Thy unerring keen delight
In all lovely things and bright,
And the largeness of thy heart,
Ever planning to impart
To thy brothers, to the poor,
Far beyond thy little store,
And thy tears which any woe,
Heard or seen, would cause to flow—
So that I do not forget
What in thee so freely met,
To thy Mother manly love—
And thy years so far above,
And beyond a childish mind,
All the pleasure thou could'st find
In whate'er I might design,
In whatever tasks were mine—
If I may remember still
How our inborn stain of ill
Did in thee break seldom forth,
Seldom came unto the birth;
(So the holy waters laved,
With their grace so truly saved;)
While with a delighted ear
Of thy Lord and Saviour dear
Thou didst ever love to hear;
If these memories with me stay,
If these do not fade away,
I with unrepining heart
Will those other see depart.