Her husband, many years before, had passed from life's busy scenes, and closed his eyes forever upon earth.
The little girl was placed in a coffin, and borne by weeping friends to the burial place, and with her dead brother, lay side by side, beautiful in death.
Fresh buds were placed in the hands of each, as they lay, with their little arms entwined around each other, and their white marble faces, looking up to the pure sky above, while their half-open lids displaying their blue orbs, seemed looking out beneath the drooping fringes, to take a last farewell of earth, sun, sky, friends, and all the endearing associations of life.
A little mound was raised beside the grave of the maternal grandfather, who had fallen suddenly, in the meridian of life, while the strength of manhood was yet upon him. As the aged grandmother turned from the grave of the little ones, she gave one lingering glance to her husband's grave, and removing her glove from her hand, pressed the marble slab, that stood at the head of it, and passed on, with a sigh and a tear, to fulfil the remaining duties that awaited her in life.
She had parted from him, many long years before, and now she had lived her threescore years and ten, and her head was whitened with passing years; but the infant of a few days had gone before her. But a few more years passed, and you looked in vain upon earth for that weary voyager,
On the Frailty of Earthly Things.
The things of earth are false, as fair,
And glitter to betray,
They scarce outlive the sunny glare
Of one short summer day.The hours--how rapid in their flight,
And days pass swift away,
Scarce dawning ere the shades of night
Chase its bright beams away.The dew-drop trembling on the flow'r,
Gemm'd by the morning's ray,--
Glitters scarce one little hour,
Ere it is dried away.The butterfly with gilded wing,
That flits from spray to spray,
Is but an evanescent thing,
That passeth soon away.The flow'rs--those gay and brilliant things,
So charming to the eye,
Soon fold their withered petals up,
And fade away and die.The busy bee, with drowsy hum,
That through the summer day,
Flies sipping round from flow'y to flow'r,
Bearing its sweets away,Is soon constrain'd by wintry winds,
To seek her honi'd cell,
And giving o'er her wandering life,
In quiet there, to dwell.And rosy health that paints the cheek
With richest crimson dye,
And bids the heart of kindness speak
From beauty's flashing eye,Soon, soon withdraws the blushing rose,
And leaves the lily there:
Bedims the lustre of the eye,
And pales the cheek with care.I saw a smiling infant stand
By its fond mother's side:
She fondly pressed one dimpl'd hand
With sweet maternal pride.Her form was faultless to behold,
And every infant grace
Beam'd sweetly from her radiant eye,
And rosy dimpl'd face.But sudden stiffness seiz'd those limbs,
A gurgling stopp'd her breath:
Those eyes that shone so bright before,
Were soon upturn'd in death.And love that fills the youthful breast,
With visions bright and gay,
Oft strews his downy nest with thorns,
And quickly flies away.And friendship, that peculiar boon,
From God to mortals given,
That seems a brilliant golden link,
Uniting earth with heaven,Is broken off, and often turn'd
With careless heart away,
And hatred fills the self same place
Where gentle love had sway.But oh! how poison'd is the dart
That sheds its venom there,
And drives uncherish'd from the heart,
The gift so good and fair.An aching void must ever dwell
Within the stricken heart;
For who can all the suff'ring tell
When friends in hatred part?Then do not fondly cling to earth,
Where all things must decay:
Where happiness scarce has its birth
Ere it is swept away.Lean not on earth, 'twill pierce the heart,
At best a broken reed,
And oft a spear where hope expires,
And peace as often bleeds.But far beyond yon azure sky,
Yon sparkling star-lit dome,
Let your aspiring hopes ascend,
For there's your heav'nly home.
To a Friend
I love to watch thy youthful eye,
That speaks thy fond affection;
I love to hear thy tender sigh,--
It charms my deep dejection.The gentle beamings of that eye
Have power to soothe each sorrow,
While casting hope's refulgent dye,
In glances, on to-morrow.My love is clear as crystal streams,
Flowing from sylvan fountains,--
And pure as Phoebus' noon-day beams,
That gild yon rising mountains.And constant as the Northern Bear,
That guards the pole unceasing,
And ushers in the new-born year,--
Nor waning, nor decreasing.But still, shouldst thou faithless prove,
Thy plighted vows resigning,
Leave me and seek another love,
I'd bear, without repining.No discontent should fill my breast,
But calm as summer even,
I'd still look forward to my rest,
In yonder vaulted heaven.And still I'd breathe my pray'r for thee
With all my soul's devotion,
Till life itself should cease to be,
And death chill'd each emotion.Then calm as day's expiring breath,
Each injury forgiven,
My ransom'd soul should take its flight,
And wing its way to Heaven.