Poems (Emma M. Ballard Bell)/Love and Death
LOVE AND DEATH.
'Mong far-away valleys and grand mountains old,That tower sublimely with summits so bold,There dwelt, in the times of the long, long ago,Bright beings who knew not of grief nor of woe.No tones of unkindness among them were heard;Their souls ne'er by strife nor by discord were stirred;Their brows wore no frowns like the clouds on the skies,The lightnings of anger ne'er flashed from their eyes. Oh, fair were those mountains and beautiful vales,And pure was the breath of the free mountain gales!The forests gleamed bright in the sun's laughing beams,The moonlight shone tenderly over their streams,And stars with a radiance gentle and brightO'er mountains and vales beamed with tremulous light.Those beings passed only from earth one by one,Their mission fulfilled and their life-work all done.So joyful their exit, their friends could not weep,And called it not death, but the beautiful sleep;While still the strong links of their sweet deathless loveTo pure ones on earth bound the pure ones above. And o'er those bright mountains and beautiful valesSweet tones, floating lightly on morning's soft gales,Said, "Peace to the mountains, and peace to the vales,"From voice of a being sent down from above;The name of this heavenly being was Love,Once, Death in his terrible majesty came;No one knew his presence, no one knew his name,Till over those mountains the shadows fell fast,And wild tones that floated on midnight's fierce blastCried, "Woe to the mountains, and woe to the vales!Howl wildly, ye night winds, upon the dark mountains; Sweep, tempests of midnight, through green vales below;Ere sunbeams of morn gild the clear, gushing fountains, Each heart shall have felt the dread presence of woe.Fly swiftly, O Love! who already too longHast gladdened these mountains with beauty and song;I'll drive thee away from these regions at last,And send thee a wand'rer on midnight's fierce blast." But Love firmly stood with a calm, beaming eye:"Death, I am the stronger, 'tis thou that must fly,"'Was said, in a strong voice, whose deep, ringing tonesWere mingling e'en then with the wild wails and moans.The dark '"King of Terrors" was speeding his dart,His poisoned shaft entering many a heart, And naught was there heard on his ruin-strewn way,Among those sad mountains, for many a day Save the wailing and the crying Of the stricken and the dying.
The father would stand where the glad sunbeams smiledOn cold features white of his dead little child,And say, in the deep tones of anguish and grief,Thus struggling to bring to his spirit relief."Waken, O beautiful beams of the morning! Oh, waken my dead from its strange deep repose!Oft have I listened to Death's fearful warning; My spirit is sinking beneath its great woes."
The mother, as Death cast its dark, fearful blightO'er faces once beaming with joy and delight,Her hands clasped in agony wild with despair,And said, while her tones thrilled the dense, stifling air;"Thou merciful God, who e'er rulest on high,Oh, look down on me with a pitying eye;Fling back these strange shadows that darken my life,And set my soul free from its wearisome strife;Or else let me pass to that sunlighted shoreWhere tempests of sorrow may beat nevermore."
The young and the aged were chilled by the breath,Or struck by the darts, of this grim monster Death;And eyes that once beamed with the radiance caughtFrom holy fires kindled by heaven-born thought,Lost all of their brightness, and told nevermoreOf visions that gleamed on the spirit before.But Death only strengthened the bright links of Love,To pure ones on earth binding pure ones above. At last 'mong those mountains and beautiful valesThere floated those sweet tones once more on the gales,And "Peace to the mountains, and peace to the vales,"Told Love was triumphant o'er all woe at last,And stronger than Death on the midnight's fierce blast.Those beings long dwelt 'mong those mountains and vales,Where floated those tones on the soft morning gales,United by beautiful links of a loveLike that of the angels and seraphs above,