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PLEADINGS WITH DEATH. 349
Till then, thou white-hair'd man, Thou aged champion of the cross, pass on, And pass in peace. May guardian angels fold Their wings of love about thee, buoy thee up, And bear thee safe to heaven! Adieu—adieu ! I think to meet thee, where thy placid brow, In its immortal youth, shall meekly wear Stars of true splendour, numerous and fadeless.
July, 1848.
PLEADINGS WITH DEATH.
A voice was heard, A voice at morning's rosy hour, Ere the first zephyr moved the flower: From the sad chamber of the dying, I heard it wailing, sobbing, crying; For there a sweet girl, pale and wan, Was fading even at childhbod's dawn,
And thus she spoke:—
" Spare me, 0 Death ! I cannot go while all is bright, And glowing with such gladsome light; I cannot leave my cheerful home, And all the garden's pleasant bloom— There shine the buds with dew-drops wet, I cannot, cannot leave them yet—
Awhile delay!" |
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