Page:Twilight Hours (1868).djvu/331

Dost hear, my heart ? Ah no, thou must not moan,
We have not nearly learned our lesson yet ;
" Suppose the cruse should fail, and we should starve ? "
Let it be so, there is no need to fret.

Tis only that the end of life is death,
And after death, we know, comes life again,
And immortality. — Dost say, poor heart,
That future bliss enhances present pain ?

Well, hush thee, for a moment, while I send
Across the darkness just one bitter cry :
" If there be any pilgrims farther on,
Turn back, I pray, and help us, or we die."

There comes no answer, deeper darkness falls,
And yet I am the better for my cry.
And thou, O perished heart ! O baby heart !
Within mine aching arms stone-dead dost lie !

Pure heart, good heart, we safely praise the dead ;
It died so young, and died so suddenly ;
And life is now so empty, and so still. —
Poor tender heart, the robins bury thee.