AN INCIDENT IN A CHURCH.
As one whose eyes, by gleam of waters caught,
Should find them strewn with pansies, so to me
It chanced that morning, as I bow'd the knee.
Soliciting th' approach of hallow'd thought ;
I dream'd not that so dear a tomb was nigh ;
My sidelong glance the lucid marble drew.
And, turning round about enquiringly,
I found it letter'd with the names I knew ;
Three precious names I knew, and loved withal,
Yea, knew and loved, albeit too briefly known —
Louisa, Henry, and the boy just grown
To boyhood's prime, as each received the call ;
And, over all, carved in the same white stone.
The symbol of the holiest death of all.
TO THE SURVIVORS.
Henceforth to you this monument shall be
A bright and constant presence : evermore
Your thoughts of death must pass by this white door,
Till ye yourselves shall meet Eternity ;
This vestal tablet written o'er with love,
From morn to eve your inner eye shall read,
And even in -midnight darkness ye shall prove
What heavenward hopes its snowy gleam can feed ;
Yes, ever in your hearts' clear depths shall lie
This fair tomb-shadow, when no ripple moves ;
And, when fresh roused to earthly sympathy.
Come floating softly o'er your living loves :
While I, not robbing you, may keep my share
Of that pure light which stole across my prayer.
As one whose eyes, by gleam of waters caught,
Should find them strewn with pansies, so to me
It chanced that morning, as I bow'd the knee.
Soliciting th' approach of hallow'd thought ;
I dream'd not that so dear a tomb was nigh ;
My sidelong glance the lucid marble drew.
And, turning round about enquiringly,
I found it letter'd with the names I knew ;
Three precious names I knew, and loved withal,
Yea, knew and loved, albeit too briefly known —
Louisa, Henry, and the boy just grown
To boyhood's prime, as each received the call ;
And, over all, carved in the same white stone.
The symbol of the holiest death of all.
TO THE SURVIVORS.
Henceforth to you this monument shall be
A bright and constant presence : evermore
Your thoughts of death must pass by this white door,
Till ye yourselves shall meet Eternity ;
This vestal tablet written o'er with love,
From morn to eve your inner eye shall read,
And even in -midnight darkness ye shall prove
What heavenward hopes its snowy gleam can feed ;
Yes, ever in your hearts' clear depths shall lie
This fair tomb-shadow, when no ripple moves ;
And, when fresh roused to earthly sympathy.
Come floating softly o'er your living loves :
While I, not robbing you, may keep my share
Of that pure light which stole across my prayer.