390 SUSAN W . J E W E T T . [1840-50. When by the mouldering stone I stood, Which marks the spot where thou art laid, And with the daisies on the sod, My little child in gladness played, Oh ! how my spirit longed to know If from the heights of heavenly joy, The love, that watched my infant years. Looked down to bless my bright-eyed boy! And when by anguish crushed and worn, I watched my bud of beauty fade. And in the cold and ghastly tomb Beheld his Ufeless body laid ; And stranger eyes beheld my grief. Who in my joys had borne no part, Oh, how I thirsted then for thee, To lift the load from off my heart ! I know my faith is not a dream ; My life from thine no power can wrest ; Death's icy hand can never chill The love that warms a mother's breast. And surely God through thee hath taught My soul submission to his will. With patient trust and child-like love. That I can suffer and be still. LEAVE ME. Leave me, for I would be alone ; Yet, least alone, when all are fled, For nearest then the loved ones come, Whom we are wont to call the dead! But closer do our thoughts entwine, When their freed spirits meet Avith mine. Nor prize I living friends the less, Who give to life its holiest light ; Their cheerful tones, their cheering smiles, Their eyes with fond affection bright. Though eyes so bright, and forms so dear, Have vanished from my pathway here. When aches the void within my soul. And mid the gay and noisy crowd, My heart grows sick with bitter thoughts Of ghastly death and chilly shroud. And those I love, seem lost for aye — Leave me alone with God, to pray. It smooths the troubled waves of grief, In quiet thought to sit awhile ; When one by one the lost return. And warm me with their heavenly smile. It is no dream — how well I feel Their sacred influence round me steal. The autumn winds are sighing now ; The yellow leaves are thickly strown — Decay and death in all I see, Recall the hopes forever flown. The autumn wind — the leafless bough Hath mournful meaning to me now. But leave me, gentle friends, awhile, That I may ease my grief by tears ; For still before me shines a light To guide and bless my coming years ; A calmer, steadier, holier ray, Then dawned upon my life's young day. And by its light, so pure and clear, My spirit feebly strives to see Beyond the mists of selfish tears — Beyond death's gloomy mystery ; And as alone, I strive and pray, I see the earth-clouds pass away. Then drinks my soul, so parched and diy, Of living streams that cannot fail, And faith awakes to newer life, And looks beyond the fleshly vail ; And even the murkiest clouds of care The hues of heavenly patience wear.
