"Let me be buried by the grave of my father and of my mother." 2 SAMUEL, xix., 37. SON of Jesse! -- let me go, Why should princely honors stay me? -- Where the streams of Gilead flow, Where the light first met mine eye, Thither would I turn and die; -- Where my parent's ashes lie, King of Israel! -- bid them lay me. Bury me near my sire revered, Whose feet in righteous paths so firmly trod, Who early taught my soul with awe To heed the Prophets and the Law, And to my infant heart appeared Majestic as a God: -- Oh! when his sacred dust The cerements of the tomb shall burst, Might I be worthy at his feet to rise, To yonder blissful skies, Where angel-hosts resplendent shine, Jehovah! -- Lord of Hosts, the glory shall be thine. Cold age upon my breast Hath shed a frost like death, The wine-cup hath no zest, The rose no fragrant breath; Music from my ear hath fled, Yet still one sweet tone lingereth there, The blessing that my mother shed Upon my evening prayer. Dim is my wasted eye To all that beauty brings, The brow of grace -- the form of symmetry Are half-forgotten things; -- Yet one bright hue is vivid still, A mother's holy smile, that soothed my sharpest ill. Memory, with traitor-tread Methinks, doth steal away Treasures that the mind had laid Up for a wintry day. Images of sacred power, Cherished deep in passion's hour, Faintly now my bosom stir, Good and evil like a dream Half obscured and shadowy seem, Yet with a changeless love my soul remembereth her, Yea -- it remembereth her: Close by her blessed side, make ye my sepulchre. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...AEOLIAN HARP (2) by WILLIAM ALLINGHAM INVITES HIS NYMPH TO HIS COTTAGE by PHILIP AYRES SONNETS OF MANHOOD: 29. CHRIST AND ENGLAND by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) SELF-COMMUNING by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE NATALIA'S RESURRECTION: 24 by WILFRID SCAWEN BLUNT OCTOBER XXIX, 1795 (KEATS' BIRTHDAY) by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE THE INVENTORY, IN ANSWER TO ... SURVEYOR OF TXAES by ROBERT BURNS |