Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, BENEATH THE PINE, by EDWARD NOYES POMEROY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

BENEATH THE PINE, by                    
First Line: Beneath the shadows of this tree
Last Line: The treasure is the heart is there.
Subject(s): Angels; Cemeteries; Death - Children; Graves; Hearts; Heaven; Love - Loss Of; Graveyards; Death - Babies; Tombs; Tombstones; Paradise


Beneath the shadows of this tree
I laid the forms of children three:
George, Agnes, Edith were the names
We knew them by on earth; but now,
In splendor that time's twilight shames,
A crown on each unsullied brow,
What names they bear I do not know.

The first to go was George; his life
Was ten sweet months. Then came our strife
With death; and then it seemed as though
This dreary, empty world would be
A cavern for the ebb and flow
Of waters of a sunless sea,
Until the end for mine and me.

Two summer days was Agnes' stay;
Then, whence she came, she stole away.
The light of heaven was in her eyes;
She seemed to hear the songs of heaven,
And feel the breath of Paradise,
Like Hesper on the brow of even,
And, ah, our hearts again were riven.

Then Edith, with the eyes serene:
The angels claimed her at fifteen.
Their faces I cannot recall;
Compassionating my distress,
She watches from my study wall,
And, soothing me with mute caress,
Increases still in loveliness.

Dear Edith, this soft summer day
Thy daisies on thy grave I lay,
And find here, by the modest stone,
Whereto it shyly seems to cling,
A clover-blossom, all alone—
A shrinking, slender, snowy thing
Like thee—June's fragrant offering.

Three little graves. The children three
My loving Father lent to me,
And claimed again with right divine
And equal love, are lying here
Beneath the shadows of this pine;
Remote from change, or pain, or fear,
Or footfalls of the passing year.

Yet are ye here my children three?
Beneath the shadows of this tree
Do ye sojourn with darkened eyes?
Nay, ye abide in splendor bright,
In ample mansions of the skies.
Beyond our darksome day and night,
Yours are eternal years of light.

And here I stand, and muse, and wait,
No longer now importunate;
No more insisting that I know
How Providence should answer prayer;
But as God wills I want it so.
My treasures are in heaven, and where
The treasure is the heart is there.





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