Page:Poems Denver.djvu/257

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THE EMIGRANTS' RETURN.
251
Beside the murmuring forest-stream
We laid her down to rest,
And we placed the mould above her there,
And the turf upon her breast.
And we hunted through the shadowy depths
Of the wide, dark wilderness;
In search of pale blue violets,
Our lost one's sleep to bless.

"Of these we wrote her epitaph,
And watered them with tears;
For we buried in that lonely grave
The hoarded love of years.
It was meet that we should greatly grieve
When she, our gentlest one,
Lay in that tranquil wilderness.
To sleep so long alone.

"We come, but bring not Emily!"
She paused awhile, and said,
"Beneath the lofty forest-trees,
Her wasted form we laid.
And daily, since we said farewell,
Our grief has sorer grown;
It seemed less hard to see her die,
Than to leave her there alone."