Poems (Toke)/The family burying-place

by Emma Toke

THE FAMILY BURYING-PLACE.

H! linger, linger yet awhile, And let us once more gazeOn yonder dim and crumbling aisle, Those tombs of other days;That spot of all the sacred shrine Pass thou not lightly by,For there a long and honoured line, In death together lie.

Yes, close beside the altar stone, Embalmed in holy ground,One race, for ages past and gone, Their resting-place have found.They passed on earth their fleeting span, Felt all life's joy and woe;Yet dust to dust returned again,— They sleep forgotten now.

See all around, above, beneath, Each sculptured tablet seemsAs if Love strove to snatch from Death, At least their cherished names. But numbers there for ages past Have slumbered side by side,Till all that memory knows at last Is—once they lived and died.

In morning's prime, in manhood's day, In life's calm sunset hour,They one by one have passed away,— Earth knows their place no more:For some, 'tis true, in many a breast Still love and memory glow;The last who there in silence rest, Alone remembered now.

'Tis sad,—'tis sad to trace again The names recorded there,And feel how swiftly death and pain Blight all on earth most fair;To think our home, in bygone years, They too have called their own;And trod life's path of smiles and tears, Where we now follow on.

Burst forth, thou sunbeam glad and gay! Shine on the marble tomb!Perchance thy light may chase away My spirit's gathering gloom;A weight seems crushing down my heart, As here I lowly bow,And think how soon life's joys depart,— Flowers withering as they blow.

Thrice blessèd words of hope and faith, Recorded on the grave,Ye shine amid the gloom of death, Like beacons on the wave!Bright as the rainbow's arch sublime, Spanning the stormy sky,Ye beam upon the clouds of time, A light that cannot die.

E.

Godinton, October 3, 1837.