A SILVER sound was on the summer-air, And yet it was not music. The sweet birds Went warbling wildly forth, from grove and dell, Their thrilling harmonies; yet this low tone Chimed not with them. But in the secret soul There was a deep response, troubling the fount Where bitter tears are born. Too well I knew The tomb's prelusive melody. I turned, And sought the house of mourning. Ah, pale friend! Who speak'st not -- look'st not -- dost not give the hand -- Hath love so perished in that pulseless breast, Once its own throne? Thou silent, changeless one, The seal is on thy virtues -- now no more Like ours to tremble in temptation's hour, Perchance to fall. Fear hath no longer power To chill thy life-stream, and frail hope doth fold Her rainbow wing, and sink to rest with thee. How good to be unclothed, and sleep in peace! Friend! -- Friend! -- I grieve to lose thee. Thou hast been The sharer of my sympathies, the soul That prompted me to good, the hand that shed Dew on my drooping virtues. In all scenes Where we have dwelt together -- walking on In friendship's holy concord, I am now But a divided being. Who is left To love, as thou hast loved? Yet still, to share A few more welcomes from thy soft blue eye, A few more pressures of thy snowy hand, And ruby lip, could I enchain thee here To all that change and plenitude of ill Which we inherit? Hence, thou selfish grief! Thy root is in the earth, and all thy fruits Bitter and baneful. Holy joy should spring When pure hearts take their portion. Go, beloved! First, for thou wert most worthy. -- I will strive, As best such frail one may, to follow thee. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE BATTLEFIELD by EMILY DICKINSON PASSION AND LOVE by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE VEIL by HARRY RANDOLPH BLYTHE LOVE IS A STAR by WILLIAM STANLEY BRAITHWAITE THE ACID TEST by BERTON BRALEY THE VILLAGE WELL by ALEXANDER BROWN |