We buried her among the flowers At falling of the leaf, And choked back all our tears; her joy Could never be our grief. She lies among the living flowers And grass, the only thing That perishes; -- or is it that Our Autumn was her Spring? Doubtless, if we could see her face, The smile is settled there Which almost broke our hearts, when last We knelt by her in prayer. When with tired eyes and failing breath And hands crossed on her breast Perhaps she saw her Guardian spread His wings above her rest. So she sleeps hidden in the flowers: But yet a little while And we shall see her wake, and rise Fair, with the selfsame smile. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CRAFTSMAN by MARCUS B. CHRISTIAN WITHOUT AND WITHIN by JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL SONG AT THE FEAST OF BROUGHAM CASTLE; UPON RSTORATION OF LORD CLIFFORD by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH THE HYMNARY: 324. WHITSUNTIDE by ADAM OF SAINT VICTOR SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 16. VENUS INCARNATE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 18. A PORTRAIT by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) A WEATHER PROPHET by JANE BARLOW |