Poems (Truesdell)/Apostrophe to the Mississippi

by Helen Truesdell

APOSTROPHE TO THE MISSISSIPPI.

inscribed to mrs. h. truesdell.

"To a kindred spirit these lines belong —
A daughter of Genius, a child of Song."
Byrona.

As on thy waters now I gaze,
 Another by my side
follows, with sad and tearful eye,
 Thy dark and turbid tide.

A widowed heart it is that bends
 In grief beside me here,—
A heart bereft, in early youth.
 Of all it held most dear.

And thou, engulfing waters, thou
 Didst rob this sorrowing one—
Didst snatch the idol from its shrine,
 And leave the heart alone.

Scarce had the bridal flowers grown pale,
 Which loving hands had wreathed,—
Scarce had the husband's tender vows
 In happiness been breathed,—

Ere from the altar he had reared,
 That shrine of love—a home,
The guardian of that temple dear
 By cruel fate was torn.

He trusted to thy treacherous waves,
 Thou dark, uncertain stream;
But of the fearful doom thou'dst planned.
 How little did he dream!

'Twas sounding still upon his ear—
 Love's fond and last adieu;
And, as each wave still bore him on,
 The absent dearer grew.

He gazed on thee, and thought, perchance,
 Of bliss till now unknown;
When thy relentless billows part,
 And claim him for thine own.

The bridal wreath so fondly worn,
 Was withered in an hour,—
Crushed by a fearful weight of woe,
 There lay a tender flower.

The fragrance of that opening flower,
 Was given to the morn,
And ere the evening sun was low,
 Its sweet perfume was gone.

The mournful cypress now replaced
 The lovely orange wreath;
And sable robes were gathered close
 This emblem sad beneath.

An emblem fit it was to wear,—
 For truthfully it spoke;
A loving nature has been crushed—
 A gentle spirit broke.

Sorrowing stranger! mingling tears
 Are flowing fast with thine:
Would they could thy spirit heal—
 These heart-felt tears of mine!
Byrona.