A FRAGILE figure robed in costly gown, Reclines on snowy pillow soft as down. No tinge of color mantles brow or cheek, Too wan to smile, too weak to move or speak The wasted hands like waxen lilies lie, The pallid lips breathe forth a plaintive sigh. She views her weeping friends with dimming sight, At even-tide her spirit wings its flight. At even-tide, within a hovel bare, Where fever's fetid breath pollutes the air Upon a bed of straw a beggar lies, No loving friends are near to sympathize. She mutters broken words and snatches low, She feebly moans and tosses to and fro. At even-tide the restless soul is free, Within the confines of eternity. The child of wealth, was her soul pure and fair A precious jewel in a casket rare? The beggar maid, was her soul dark within, Stained and discolored by defiling sin? The rich are tempted and the poor are tried, Lusts of the flesh must needs be crucified. We may not know—sealed is the book of fate— If one or both shall enter Heaven's gate. Each sin resisted and each trial met, The stifling of a sigh or vain regret, Each tender thought, each sympathizing word, A loving heart by others' sorrow stirred— These things above all mere conditions rise, Like fragrant incense mounting to the skies. The Judge of all, who marks a sparrow's flight, Weighs human motives, thoughts, and deeds aright. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE LAST SUPPER by RAINER MARIA RILKE NERVES by ARTHUR WILLIAM SYMONS THE DISMANTLED SHIP by WALT WHITMAN DEAD MEN, TO A METAPHYSICIAN by WILLIAM HERVEY ALLEN JR. THE NIGHTINGALE THAT WAS DROWNED by PHILIP AYRES A VALENTINE by WARREN K. BILLINGS THREE BLACK CROWS by JOHN BYROM TO A FRIEND, TOGETHER WITH AN UNFINISHED POEM by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |