Poems (Denver)/The Living and the Dead
THE LIVING AND THE DEAD.
Mourn not the dead!—No more the death by sorrow. That poisons life even to its inmost springs, Or lights with sickly hope each dull to-morrow, Hath power to weigh to earth their spirit's wings. Their sighs are hushed; the griefs have long departed That concentrated in their bosom's core; The links that bound them to the earth are parted,Why should we mourn for them, the weary hearted?— Weep for the dead no more!
Tears for the living!—that each fond endeavor To snatch their name from dark oblivion's wave, Though in the strife the tenderer heart-strings sever, Should only drag them nearer to the grave!— Bright hopes that came to them in golden showers, Fond promises that were too dear to keep, Tears that were shed in vain o'er dying flowers,These haunt them yet through the night's stormy hours;— Weep for the living, weep!
Mourn not the dead!—No more the tranquil bosom Shall feel the pains that eat its life away; No more the canker shall molest the blossom, The cloud no more shall intercept the ray; Safe from the shocks that heave life's billowy ocean. Their barks have reached at last a peaceful shore, Where nevermore one agonized emotion Shall thrill their hearts amidst the dark commotion;— Weep for the dead no more!
Tears for the living!—down the sea of error Their barks are hastening towards destruction's goal; O'ershadow'd by dismay and doubt and terror;— Pray for the welfare of each passing soul! Toss'd by the waves of falsehood, tempest-shaken, Its best gifts thrown to the remorseless deep,The spirit long its mourning-garb hath taken; Oh! it is sad from our first dreams to waken;— Weep for the living, weep!
Mourn not the dead!—Their sins are all forgiven; No bitter memories haunt their being now, From them no more shall cherished ties be riven, Nor agonies o'ercloud the hopeless brow. Ah! who ill this cold world would dwell forever, To mourn for things the world cannot restore? To see, day after day, fate's rude hand sever Fond hearts to be again united never?— Weep for the dead no more!
Tears for the living! Pray for the awaking From cherished dreams that all too quickly fly; Better the heart should break at once, than breaking From day to day, sink slowly down and die. Who would not sooner die, than see each token Of young affection pass in dust away? Or hear from once loved lips the cold words spoken That leave the worn-out heart all bruised and broken?— Pray for the living, pray!