Poems (Kimball)/My Namesake
For works with similar titles, see My Namesake.
MY NAMESAKE.
FROM silvery clouds the silvery showers Fell o'er the earth; Stole softly forth the faint, sweet flowers Of April birth.
An April babe my namesake came One April day; Just claimed on earth her place, her name, And fled away.
A few soft sighings of the breath And it was spent; Too frail for life, too sweet for death, She came and went.
So brief a stay, so swift a flight, Could scarce be felt; Thus snowflakes falling light as light Touch earth and melt.
If verily she hath been here We hardly know; The frailest blossoms of the year Her days outgrow.
Sweet month of soft unsorrowing sighs And fragrant breath; Of tender showery, brooding skies; Of life, not death;
Her faint sweet memory entomb In violets, The pathos of whose faint perfume Breathes no regrets!
How strange to enter Paradise, As she to-day, With not one tear in those sweet eyes To wipe away!