Thou cam'st — what pleasures new and bright Thy coming gave! Thou'rt gone — and every young delight Is laid in thy dark grave! THERE is a spot — 't is holy ground To those who weep, Where, hushed beneath each lonely mound, Death's mouldering victims sleep. Friend, sister, brother, there are laid, From sorrows free; And there a clay-cold bed is made For thee, Sweet Boy! for thee. Those little hands thou'lt raise no more To meet my arms; Thou'rt gone! the bitter wind passed o'er, And withered all thy charms. Forever gone life's active spark, The blood's warm thrill; Thy bright blue eyes are closed and dark, Thy merry laugh is still. I've sate me by thy cradle's side, And joyed to trace, Blind fool! with all a father's pride, Thy future earthly race. Fancy beheld thee good and wise, Honor's proud theme, Truth's sturdy prop, Fame's noble prize — But O, 't was all a dream. There came an hour — with me 't will live Till life depart; Time's vaunted skill no balm can give, Remembrance wrings my heart. 'T was when I watched, with curdling blood, Each stifled breath; 'T was when on that pale forehead stood The boding damp of death. 'T was when the tyrant's grasp, so cold, Chilled life's young tide; 'T was when those eyes that last glance rolled — 'T was when my poor boy died. The sigh will rise, in manhood's spite, The tears will roll; Grief round me draws her mental night, And desolates my soul. Yet let my stricken heart be taught That thou'rt in peace; That lesson, with true wisdom fraught, Should bid each anguish cease. If there's a refuge-place at last, For man t' enjoy, There may I meet, earth's trials past, My Charles, my cherub boy! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...GREEN SYMPHONY by JOHN GOULD FLETCHER CHRISTUS CONSOLATOR by ROSSITER WORTHINGTON RAYMOND ASTROPHEL AND STELLA: 14 by PHILIP SIDNEY KENTUCKY BELLE by CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON THE RIVER DUDDON: SONNET 34. AFTER-THOUGHT by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH SONNET (3) by JOACHIM DU BELLAY TO SIR THOS. BARLOW, P.R.C.P. by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES ON AN INFANT UNBORN, AND THE MOTHER DYING IN TRAVAIL by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) |