POETRY.
PASSING AWAY.
Mothers! where are they?—where?
They are gone from this passing scene,
Gone with the dreams of joy that were,
As if they ne'er had been.
Husbands! where are they?—where?
The visions of life are fled;
But they live—beneath—above—in air,
For spirits can ne'er be dead.
Children! where are they?—where?
Will the sun or stars reply?
Nor earth, nor sea, nor air,
Will answer to the cry.
Return they not with the early morn?
Where are the lost ones? say—
Gone to a land whence none return,
But where,—Oh, where are they?
Dear ones! where are they?—where?
They are gone from the village home;
We ponder and gaze on the empty chair,
And recall the voice's tone.
Loved ones! where are they?—where?
We stand by the vacant bed,
On the spot where we breathed the prayer,
When we raised the dying head.
The friends! where are they?—where?
Their spirits have left the clay;
Are they gone to weep in black despair,
Or to sing in eternal day?
Where are they? Oh tell us where!
That our aching hearts may rest;
Do they breathe the rich man's prayer,
Or are they among the blest?
Lost ones! where are they?—where?
We ask—but we ask in vain;
The sound goes round on the waves of air,
And echo says, “Where?” Again—
Where are they?—where?