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LAMENT OF ANASTASIUS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: It was but yesterday, my love, thy little heart beat high
Last Line: Since thou art where the ills of life can never reach thee more.


IT was but yesterday, my love, thy little heart beat high,
And I had scorned the warning voice that told me thou must die;
I saw thee move with active bound, with spirits light and free,
And infant grace and beauty gave their glorious charm to thee.
Upon the dewy field I saw thine early footsteps fly,
Unfettered as the matin bird that cleaves the radiant sky;
And often as the sunrise gale blew back thy shining hair,
Thy cheek displayed the red-rose tinge that health had painted there.
Then, withered as my heart had been, I could not but rejoice
To hear upon the morning wind the music of thy voice,
Now echoing in the careless laugh, now melting down to tears:
'T was like the sounds I used to hear in old and happier years.

Thanks for that memory to thee, my lovely little boy!
'Tis all remains of former bliss that care cannot destroy;
I listened, as the mariner suspends the outbound oar
To taste the farewell gale that blows from off his native shore.

I loved thee, and my heart was blessed; but ere the day was spent,
I saw thy light and graceful form in drooping illness bent,
And shuddered as I cast a look upon the fainting head,
For all the glow of health was gone, and life was almost fled.

One glance upon thy marble brow made known that hope was vain;
I knew the swiftly wasting lamp would never light again;
Thy cheek was pale, thy snow-white lips were gently thrown apart,
And life in every passing breath seemed gushing from the heart.
And, when I could not keep the tear from gathering in my eye,
Thy little hand pressed gently mine in token of reply;
To ask one more exchange of love thy look was upward cast,
And in that long and burning kiss thy happy spirit passed.

I trusted I should not have lived to bid farewell to thee,
And nature in my heart declares it ought not so to be;
I hoped that thou within the grave my weary head should lay,
And live beloved, when I was gone, for many a happy day.

With trembling hand I vainly tried thy dying eyes to close,
And how I envied in that hour thy calm and deep repose!
For I was left alone on earth, with pain and grief opprest;
And thou wert with the sainted, where the weary are at rest.

Yes! I am left alone on earth; but I will not repine
Because a spirit loved so well is earlier blessed than mine:
My fate may darken as it will, I shall not much deplore,
Since thou art where the ills of life can never reach thee more.





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