Poems (Charlotte Allen)/The Dying Girl
For works with similar titles, see The Dying Girl.
THE DYING GIRL.
Her lamp of life burns dimly now,
The hectic flush is o'er,
The damp of death is on her brow,
Where smiles are seen no more.
The hectic flush is o'er,
The damp of death is on her brow,
Where smiles are seen no more.
Her eyes have lost their sparkling ray,
Her voice hath lost its tone,
Her pulses soon will cease to play,
And death will claim his own.
Her voice hath lost its tone,
Her pulses soon will cease to play,
And death will claim his own.
And she, the gifted and the loved,
Is passing from the earth:
Forgetting all, forgot in turn,
E'en such is mortal birth.
Is passing from the earth:
Forgetting all, forgot in turn,
E'en such is mortal birth.
Ere many fleeting hours have passed,
The fluttering soul will break
The confines of its fragile frame,
Its upward flight to take.
The fluttering soul will break
The confines of its fragile frame,
Its upward flight to take.
For her pure spirit will ascend
To that Almighty Power,
Who placed the bud on earth to bloom,
And takes it back, a flower.
To that Almighty Power,
Who placed the bud on earth to bloom,
And takes it back, a flower.