120
POEMS.
No more within our threshold shall we see her;
Only the whisper of her spirit falls
Softly within our hearts where fast we hold her
Invisibly she dwells beneath our walls.
Only the whisper of her spirit falls
Softly within our hearts where fast we hold her
Invisibly she dwells beneath our walls.
There is her empty chair, where 'side her mother
She used to sit; and upstairs is the bed
Now slept in by a sister or a brother,
The self-same pillow where once laid her head.
She used to sit; and upstairs is the bed
Now slept in by a sister or a brother,
The self-same pillow where once laid her head.
A thousand sights recall her, and we listen
Half hoping, fearing, knowing 'tis in vain;
Bright unshed tears within our eyelids glisten,
For never more we'll hear her voice again.
Half hoping, fearing, knowing 'tis in vain;
Bright unshed tears within our eyelids glisten,
For never more we'll hear her voice again.
Our gaze upon the wall doth often wander,
For there her portrait meets our longing eyes,
And day by day our hearts for her grow fonder—
She still is ours, though fled beyond the skies.
For there her portrait meets our longing eyes,
And day by day our hearts for her grow fonder—
She still is ours, though fled beyond the skies.
Unspeakable our loss, untold our yearning;
Affection's chain is riven deep and wide,
For severed links our hearts within are burning
For vanished faces round the dear home side.
Affection's chain is riven deep and wide,
For severed links our hearts within are burning
For vanished faces round the dear home side.
Poor human hearts! for ever, ever clinging,
Though Death stands by with visage pale and grim,
O'er all our lives a sombre shadow flinging,
His iron grasp outstretched on every limb.
Though Death stands by with visage pale and grim,
O'er all our lives a sombre shadow flinging,
His iron grasp outstretched on every limb.
