poems by mary baker eddy
15
THE VALLEY CEMETERY
E soft sighing zephyrs through foliage and vine!Ye echoing moans from the footsteps of time!
Break not on the silence, unless thou canst bear
A message from heaven—"No partings are there."
Here gloom hath enchantment in beauty's array,
And whispering voices are calling away—
Their wooings are soft as the vision more vain—
I would live in their empire, or die in their chain.
And whispering voices are calling away—
Their wooings are soft as the vision more vain—
I would live in their empire, or die in their chain.
Here smileth the blossom and sunshine not dead—
Flowers fresh as the pang in the bosom that bled,—
Yes, constant as love that outliveth the grave,
And time cannot quench in oblivion's wave.
Flowers fresh as the pang in the bosom that bled,—
Yes, constant as love that outliveth the grave,
And time cannot quench in oblivion's wave.
