TWO friends within one grave we place United in our tears, -- Sisters, scarce parted for the space Of more than eighty years; And she whose bier is borne to-day, The one the last to go, Bears with her thoughts that force their way Above the moment's woe; Thoughts of the varied human life Spread o'er that field of time -- The toil, the passion, and the strife, The virtue and the crime. Yet 'mid this long tumultuous scene, The image on our mind Of these dear women rests serene In happy bounds confined. Within one undisturbed abode Their presence seems to dwell, From which continual pleasures flowed, And countless graces fell; Not unbecoming this our age Of decorative forms, Yet simple as the hermitage Exposed to Nature's storms. Our English grandeur on the shelf Deposed its decent gloom, And every pride unloosed itself Within that modest room; Where none were sad, and few were dull, And each one said his best, And beauty was most beautiful With vanity at rest. Brightly the day's discourse rolled on, Still casting on the shore Memorial pearls of days bygone, And worthies now no more; And little tales of long ago Took meaning from those lips, Wise chroniclers of joy and woe, And eyes without eclipse. No taunt or scoff obscured the wit That there rejoiced to reign; They never could have laughed at it If it had carried pain. There needless scandal, e'en though true, Provoked no bitter smile, And even men-of-fashion grew Benignant for a while. Not that there lacked the nervous scorn At every public wrong, Not that a friend was left forlorn When victim of the strong: Free words, expressing generous blood, No nice punctilio weighed, For deep and earnest womanhood Their reason underlaid. As generations onward came, They loved from all to win Revival of the sacred flame That glowed their hearts within. While others in Time's greedy mesh The faded garlands flung, Their hearts went out and gathered fresh Affections from the young. Farewell, dear ladies! in your loss We feel the past recede, The gap our hands could almost cross Is now a gulf indeed: Ye, and the days in which your claims And charms were early known, Lose substance, and ye stand as names That History makes its own. Farewell! the pleasant social page Is read, but ye remain Examples of ennobled age, Long life without a stain; A lesson to be scorned by none, Least by the wise and brave, Delightful as the winter sun That gilds this open grave. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FACADE: 7. MADAME MOUSE TROTS by EDITH SITWELL TO AN AEOLIAN HARP by SARA TEASDALE THE CHIMNEY SWEEPER, FR. SONGS OF EXPERIENCE by WILLIAM BLAKE THE SCARE-FIRE by ROBERT HERRICK SONNET: DANTE (2) by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW WREATHE THE BOWL by THOMAS MOORE THE BARREL-ORGAN by ALFRED NOYES |