Poems (Barker)/My Darling's Grave

by Alice J. Green Barker

My Darling's Grave.

'Tis only a little tear-wet mound!
Away from the city's tiresome sound,
A little mound in a lonely spot,
By the world at large 'tis soon forgot;
But oh! it forms the largest part
In the aching depths of a mother's heart.

'Tis only a little tear-wet mound!
But to me t'is sacred, holy ground;
For the little lips that I used to press,
And the little head that I used to bless,
Lies under the silent tear-wet sod.
It is sanctified by Almighty God.

We have scattered o'er it lovliest flowers,
But they fade and die in a few short hours,
They are fragrant now, as the breath of June,
But their gentle fragrance dies too soon.
Alas, alas! is there naught to leave
That tells how a mother's heart must grieve!

Tis only a little tear-wet mound,
And the wind is passing with sobbing sound,
And echoing the cry of a broken heart
While the silent shadows softly part;
My life is robed in a wintry pall,
While my tears like the rain drops swiftly fall.

There is no life, no hope for me,
I cannot look at God's mystery;
'Tis a strange, hard path, but perhaps the best,
For it leads some day to "Eternal Rest."
This little grave claims the largest part
In the aching depths of a mother's heart.