In the graveyard on the upland
That o’erlooks an inland sea,
Where the flowers bloom in beauty,
Where the birds sing wild and free:
In the grave we sadly laid her
At the quiet eventide,
And the thoughts that filled our bosoms
Breathed of prayer and faith sublime.
She’s not dead, she only sleepeth
From the cares of earthly strife;
She’ll arise more fair and perfect
To a grander, nobler life.
If we follow in her footsteps,
We, too, may the goal attain:
Just beyond the Stygian river
Blooms a life that’s not in vain.
THE PARTING.
I never deemed we thus should sever,
Two hearts that vowed to love forever;
I never thought in this proud, selfish world,
That love so soon her soft white wings furled.
Our parting I remember yet too well:
The budding spring was decking earth once more,
The birds were singing in the quiet dell,
The south winds sighed along the rippling shore.
We stood where fragrant violets grew
Beside thy cottage door;
The early dawn soft glances threw
The lovely landscape o’er.
I took thy hand, it quivered not;
Thy face was calm and cold;
You knew not then the storm of grief
That o’er my spirit rolled.
One impassioned kiss I pressed
Upon thy lovely brow,
But thou turn’st coldly from my side—
How strangely changed wert thou!
We parted, and we ne’er have met
Since then, long years ago;
But still I dream, and dream of thee—
Sad thoughts will backward flow.
Since then I’ve wandered far and wide
O’er earth and stormy sea,
And mingled in the world’s deep strife,
But still I think of thee.
The human heart I trust no more;
Sweet smile or voice’s tone
Are but an echo on the shore
Of dreams that long have flown.
Thus it is with many a one
In the world’s hurry and strife:
Deserted and ever alone,
They end a weary life.
Hoping not and trusting never,
Waifs on the sea of time;
Longing, aye, longing forever
For something more divine.