Poems (Chitwood)/Near Me, still Near Me

by Mary Louisa Chitwood

NEAR ME, STILL NEAR ME.

Near me, still near me when the quiet even
 Steals o'er the busy earth and whispers rest,
When night's soft veil hangs o'er the shadowy heaven,
 And weary bee and bird have sought their rest.
When the bright stars unveil their glorious faces,
 And the pale moon shines out from the blue sky;
Then my fond heart thine image plainly traces,
 Then thou art near me, ever, ever nigh.

And when the long, long night hath slowly ended,
 And the fair morn breaks o'er the smoky hills;
When Beauty's touch with all around is blended,
 When the soft sunlight dances on the rills;
When the glad birds are singing in the bowers,
 Or mounting upward to the clouds on high,—
Then, with the fragrance from the dew-kissed flowers,
 Cometh thy voice—near thee, still ever nigh.

And at the noontide, when the sunlight streaming,
 Comes softly in thy silent, silent room,
I linger there; and find myself still dreaming
 Of thy sad fate—taken in life's bright bloom.
And when I muse and call thine image near me,
 And think upon thee, lone and silently,—
Then thy sweet voice doth gently, sweetly cheer me;
 I feel thy presence ever nigh.

Oh, thou art near me, yet still near forever:
 I mingle with the crowd in pleasure's halls,
I wear a smiling lip with stern endeavor,
 And list to beauty's voice that softly falls
Upon my ear, and strive to still dissemble
 My secret feelings from the cold world's eye;
But my true heart, still, still for thee will tremble;
 Bright guardian spirit! thou art ever nigh.

Thou still art near me, though thy form is sleeping,
 And thy dear voice in solemn silence hushed;
Thine eyes were closed ere they were dim with weeping,
 O thou fair flower, in life's bright morning crush'd.
And, though in form I never more shall meet thee,
 'Till we shall meet above the o'erarching sky,
Yet, still in spirit I may often greet thee;
 My soul is comforted—thou still art nigh.