GRADY.
I.
SUNS rise and set, stars flash and darken:
To-day I stand alone and hearken
Unto this counsel, old and wise:
“As shadows still we flee.” The blossom
May hide the rare fruit in its bosom,
But in the core the canker lies.
II.
To-day I stand alone and listen—
While on my cheek the teardrops glisten
And a strange blindness veils my sight,
Unto the story of his dying
And how, in God’s white slumber lying,
His laureled brow is lulled to-night.
III.
Dear friends, I would not mock your sorrow
With this poor wreath that ere to-morrow
Shall fade and perish—little worth;
But from the mountains that lament him,
And from these vales whose violets lent him
Their fragrance; from around the earth,
IV.
Wherever Love hath her dominion,
Sorrow hath plumed her shadowed pinion
And paid the tribute of her tears;
And here is mine! In pathways lowly
This man, whose dust ye count as holy
Met me, a traveller of the years,
V.
And reached his strong right hand—a brother,
Saying: “Mankind should love each other,”
And so I shared and felt his love;
And now my heart its grief expresses
As comes from out lone wildernesses
The sad lamenting of the dove.
VI.
Yet while I weep States mourn together
And in the world ’tis rainy weather
And all that bright rain falls for him!
States mourn, and while their voices fame him
The fond lips of the lowly name him,
And little children’s eyes grow dim,
VII.
With tender tears, because they love him;
Their hands strew violets above him:
They lisp his dear name in their dreams.
And in their sorrows and afflictions
Old men breathe dying benedictions
Where on his grave the starlight gleams.
VIII.
He stood upon the heights, yet never
So high but that his heart forever
Was by the lowliest accent thrilled;
He loved his land and sought to save it,
And in that love he freely gave it
The life Death’s hand hath touched and stilled.
IX.
Dear, brave, true heart! You fell as falleth
A star when from far spaces calleth
God’s voice that shakes the trembling spheres;
Fell! Nay! that voice, like softest lyre,
Whispered thee in thy dreams: “Come higher,
Above Earth’s sorrows, hopes and fears.”
X.
I shall not see the dead: Thy living,
Dear face, the gentle and forgiving;
The kindly eyes compassionate;
The rare smile of thy lips—each token
I have of thee must be unbroken—
Death shall not leave them desolate?
XI.
O, Christmas skies of blue December,
This day of earthly days remember—
He loved you, skies! to him your blue
Was beautiful! O, sunlight gleaming
Like silver on the rivers streaming
Out to the sea; and mountain’s dew
XII.
Bespangled—and ye velvet valleys,
Green-bosomed, where the south winds dallies—
He loved you! And ye birds that sing—
Do ye not miss him? Winds that wander,
How can ye pass him, lying yonder,
Now sigh his dirge with folded wing?
XIII.
In dearest dust that ever nourished
The violets that o’er it flourished,
He lies, your lover and your friend!
Thy softest beams, sweet sun, will kiss him;
Sweet, silent valleys, ye will miss him,
Your roses, weeping, o’er him bend.
XIV.
Good-night—Good-bye! Above our sorrow,
Comrade! thine is a fair “good-morrow,”
In some far, luminous world of light,
Yet, take this farewell—Love’s last token:
We leave thee to thy rest unbroken—
God have thee in his care—Good-night!
—F. L. Stanton.