Page images
PDF
EPUB
[merged small][merged small][graphic]

THE

POETICAL MELANGE.

THE VOICE OF DEPARTED FRIENDSHIP.

I Had a friend who died in early youth I
—And often, in those melancholy dreamt,
When my soul travels through the umbrage deep
That shades the silent world of memory,
Methinks I hear his voice! sweet as the breath
Of balmy ground-flowers stealing from some spot
Of sunshine sacred, in a gloomy wood,
To everlasting spring.

In the church-yard
Where now he sleeps—the day before he died,
Silent we sat together on a grave;
Till gently laying his pale hand on mine,
Pale in the moonlight that was coldly sleeping
VOL. i. A *

On heaving sod and marble monument,—

This was the music of his last farewell!

'Weep not, my brother! though thou seest me led,

By short and easy stages, day by day,

With motion almost imperceptible,

Into the quiet grave: God's will be done.

Even when a boy, in doleful solitude

My soul oft sat within the shadow of death!

And when I looked along the laughing earth.

Up the blue heavens, and through the middle air,

Joyfully ringing with the sky-lark's song,

I wept ! and thought how sad for one so young

To bid farewell to so much happiness.

But Christ hath called me from this lower world,

Delightful though it be :—and when I gaze

On the green earth, and all its happy hills,

"lis with the feelings that a man beholds

A little farm which he is doomed to leave

On an appointed day. Still more and more

He loves it, as that mournful day draws near;

But hath prepared his heart—and is resigned!'

—Then lifting up his radiant eyes to heaven,

He said, with fervent voice—' O what were life,

Even in the warm and summer light of joy,

Without those hopes, that like refreshing gales,

At evening from the sea, come o'er the soul

« PreviousContinue »