Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/118

No word of notice or reply
    She deign'd to their inquiring tone,
One only object fix'd her eye,
    One image fill'd her heart alone.

'T was thus, disdaining all relief,
    She mourn'd with agonizing strife,
While the wild storm of love and grief
    Rack'd the worn ligaments of life.

'T was thus o'er age and sorrow's gloom,
    Unchill'd affection soar'd sublime,
While strangely foster'd in the tomb
    Youth rose, to mock the power of time.

That shrivell'd form convulsed so long,
    And that bright brow devoid of breath,
Might seem in contradiction strong,
    Like buried life, and living death.

'T was strange from livid lips to hear
    Such wild lament, such piercing groan,
While manly love reposing near,
    Call'd forth, yet heeded not the moan.

The mourner raised the curls whose shade
    Conceal'd that polish'd forehead dear,
And there her wasted hand she laid,
    Exclaiming in the lifeless ear,

"Oh!—have I lived to see that face
    Engraved upon my soul so deep?—
And in this bitterness to trace
    Those features wrapt in holy sleep?