Poems (McDonald)/Elegiac in Memory of Mrs S. W. C———e

by Mary Noel McDonald

ELEGIAC.

in memory of mrs. s. w. c * * * e.

    Why should we mourn thee?
     See, the captive bird
Hath burst its prison bar, and wanders free
Through the clear ether, till no more is heard
    Its minstrelsy.
    Should we deplore its flight,
As up the blue expanse with quivering wings
    Exultingly it springs,
Spreading its pinions toward the throne of light,
And leaving far behind, the land of chains and night?

    Why should we mourn thee ?
     When the exile lone,
Homeward returning, from afar espies
His cot's low roof with verdure overgrown,
'Mid the green foliage where embowered it lies;
And pressing forward with a bounding heart
And quickened footstep, gains the destined spot—
From its loved shelter could we say, Depart,
And seek again the pilgrim's weary lot—
Each hardship o'er, each peril now forgot?

    Why should we mourn thee?
     Gifted one, thy lyre
Gave the sweet echoes of thy soups warm lay:
Strings such as angels sweep, the golden wire
That vibrates to a seraph's touch of fire;
    The holy, holy song
    Immortal lips prolong;
These were thy high aspirings, and thy robe of clay,
Bound but thy spirit-wings, which longed to soar away.

    Why should we mourn thee?
     In thy bright abode
Pain is unknown, and sorrow hath no place,
The heritage alone of those who trace
     Life's thorny road.
    'Tis for ourselves we weep,
      Poor earth-bound prisoners still,
     On our toilsome way and steep,
      With our load of care and ill;
    But for thee, sweet songstress, thee!
     Be our purest praises given,
    Like the captive bird made free;
    Like the exile, joyously,
     Thou hast gained thy home in heaven,
    And thine earthly lyre,
    Though quenched its fire,
    Will echo again, 'mid the angel choir.