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AT THY GRAVE.

Waves the soft grass at thy feet ; Dost thou feci me near thee, sweet 1 Though the earth upon thy face. Holds thee close from my embrace, Yet my spirit thine can reach, Needs betwixt us twain no speech, For the same soul lives in each.

Now I meet no tender eyes Seeking mine, in soft surmise At some broken utterance faint, Smile quick brightening, sigh half spent Yet in some sweet hours gone by, No responding eye to eye Needed we, for sympathy.

Love, I seem to see thee stand Silent in a shadowy land ; With a look upon thy face As if even in that dim place Distant voices smote thine ears, Memories of vanquished years, Or faint echoes of these tears.

Yet, I would not have it thus. Then would bo most piteous Our divided lives, if thou An imperfect bliss shonldst know Sweet my suffering, if to thee Death has brought the faculty Of entire felicity.

Bather would I weep in vain, That then canst not share my pain, Deem that Lethean waters roll Softly o’er thy separate soul, Know that a divided bliss Makes thee careless of my kiss, Than that thous shonldst feel distress.

Hush ! I hear a low sweet sound As of music stealing round. Forms thy hand the thrilling chords Into more than spoken words ? Ah ! ’tis but the gathering breeze Whispering to the budding trees, Or the song of early bees.

Love, where art thou I Canst thou not Here mo, or is all forgot \ Seest thou not these burning tears ? Can my words not reach thine ear’s 1 Or betwixt my soul and thine Has some mj’stery divine Sealed a separating lino !

Is it thus then after death, Old things none remoiubereth ? Is the spirit henceforth clear Of the life it gathered here ? Will our noblest longings seem Like some dim-remembered dream In the after world’s full beam ?

Hark ! the rainy wind blows loud, Scuds above the hurrying cloud ; Hushed is all the song of bees ; Angry murmurs of the trees Herald tempests. Silent yet Slecpcst thou—nor tear nor fret Troubles thee. Can I forget ?

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Permanent link to this item

http://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AG18791011.2.21

Bibliographic details

AT THY GRAVE., Ashburton Guardian, Volume I, Issue 7, 11 October 1879

Word Count
358

AT THY GRAVE. Ashburton Guardian, Volume I, Issue 7, 11 October 1879

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