Poems (Greenwood)/The last gift
THE LAST GIFT.
I leave thee, love! In vain hast thou The God of life implored; My clinging soul is torn from thine, My faithful, my adored! My last gift,—I have on it breathed In blessing and in prayer; So lay it close, close to thy heart, This little lock of hair!
I know thou wilt think tenderly And lovingly on me, Thou wilt forget my waywardness, When I am gone from thee; Thou wilt remember all my love, Which made thee think me fair; Thou wilt with many tears be-gem This little lock of hair!
And yet, at last, thy grief's wild storm Will sigh itself to rest; Then thou mayst choose another love, And clasp her to thy breast; But when she hides her glowing face In tearful gladness there, O, do not let her hand displace This little lock of hair!
The dark, rich hue thou oft hast praised, This ringlet still shall hold; Still, as the sunlight on it falls, Give out quick gleams of gold.Though years roll by, no trace of change Its glossy rings shall wear; It never will grow gray, beloved, This little lock of hair!
And when the earth weighs chill and damp Above my resting-place,When fall moist tresses heavily Around my cold, dead face, 'Tis sweet to know a part of me Thine own life-glow may share,Thou 'It keep it warm, love, always warm, This little lock of hair!
Ah, dearest, see how pale and cold Has grown this hand of mine! No longer now it glows and thrills Within the clasp of thine; I go!—soon, where my dying head Is pillowed with fond care,No trace of me shall linger, save This little lock of hair.
I see thee not!—I faintly feel The fast tears thou dost weep; Kiss down my quivering eyelids, love, Thus, thus, and I will sleep. I go where angels beckon me, I go their heaven to share; Yet, with a longing envy, leave This little lock of hair!