ON THE DEATH OF A SISTER, WHILE ABSENT AT SCHOOL.
Sweet Sister,—is it so? And shall I see
Thy face on earth no more? And didst thou breathe
The last sad pang of agonizing life
Upon a stranger's pillow? No kind hand,
Of parent or of sister, near to press
Thy throbbing temples, when the shuddering dew
Stood thick upon them? And they say my name
Hung on thy lips 'mid the chill, parting strife.
Ah!—those were hallowed memories that could stir
Thy bosom thus in death. The tender song
Of cradle-nurture,—the low, lisping prayer,
Learned at our mother's knee,—the childish sport,
The gift divided, and the parted cake—
Our walk to school amid the dewy grass—
Our sweet flower-gatherings,—all those cloudless hours
Together shared, did wake a love so strong
That Time must yield it to Eternity
For its full crown. Would it had been my lot
But with one weeping prayer to gird thy heart
For its last conflict. Would that I had seen
That peaceful smile which Death did leave thy clay,
After his conquest o'er it. But the turf
On thy lone grave was trodden—while I deemed
Thee meekly musing o'er the classic page,
Loving and loved amid the studious band
As erst I left thee.
