"ONLY A YEAR"
One year ago,—a ringing voice,
A clear blue eye,
And clustering curls of sunny hair,
Too fair to die.
Only a year,—no voice, no smile,
No glance of eye,
No clustering curls of golden hair,
Fair but to die!
One year ago,—what loves, what schemes
Far into life!
What joyous hopes, what high resolves,
What generous strife!
The silent picture on the wall,
The burial stone,
Of all that beauty, life, and joy
Remain alone!
One year,—one year,—one little year,
And so much gone!
And yet the even flow of life
Moves calmly on.
The grave grows green, the flowers bloom fair,
Above that head;
No sorrowing tint of leaf or spray
Says he is dead.
No pause or hush of merry birds,
That sing above,
Tells us how coldly sleeps below
The form we love.