LONELY and low is thy dwelling-place now, On which the bright sun-beams are dawning; But oh! I remember the moments when thou Wast as blythe as the breeze of the morning. Silent and sad is the place of thy rest, Where thou sleep'st the last slumber decreed thee; But well I remember, when warm was that breast, How few in gay mirth could exceed thee. Yet, rest in thy mansion! sleep quietly on: There was nought in that mirth which should cost thee, Or those who best knew thee, one sigh now thou'rt gone; Were it not that too early we lost thee. Thine was not the laughter which leaves us more sad; Unnatural, unheeded, unglowing; 'Twas a gush of enjoyment, which seem'd to be glad To get loose from a heart overflowing. But 'tis not the memory of moments of mirth, Which thy claim to remembrance now gives thee; Their light is obscur'd by the grave! but thy @3worth,@1 In spite of the grave, still outlives thee. Thy sterling integrity, candour, and sense, Thy benevolence, frank and warm-hearted, Which sham'd the professions of empty pretence These live, though thy life has departed. And long shall they lend to thy lonely tomb, A glory like that the sun grants us; When the clouds he hath set in have lost all their gloom, And a beautiful twilight enchants us. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...POST-MORTEM by EMILY DICKINSON THE VOYAGE TO VINLAND: 3. GUDRIDA'S PROPHECY by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! by WALT WHITMAN O YOU WHOM I OFTEN AND SILENTLY COME by WALT WHITMAN THE STRICKEN HART by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT VALUES by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE |