4623720Poems — When o'er my weary eyes at lastEmma Toke
HEN o'er my weary eyes at last,The dew of slumber falls,How clear the visions of the pastThat world of dreams recalls!I live among the dead once more,Their voices round me ring;The forms, the faces loved of yore,Float by on angel's wing.
Father and mother! ye are nearTo bless your child again;Sisters beloved! kindred dear,Ye crowd around me then.Familiar voices, childish days,The friends of early youth,All blend in one commingling hazeOf fiction and of truth.
And thou, my angel child, more dear,More wept than all the rest,How oft thine image comes to cheerThy mourning mother's breast!I clasp thee to my heart, mine own!I kiss thy cheek once more.Alas! in this world, dreams aloneCan that loved face restore.
No marvel that I long to sleep,And live again those years;No marvel that I wake to weep,But oh! not bitter tears.For blesséd be His boundless loveWho gave and took away;—We know, that safe with Him above,Ye wait the awful day.
In that calm land, where earthly fearsAnd griefs for ever cease,The infant and the full of yearsTogether rest in peace.And we, though sorrowing and bereft,Must strive in faith and prayer,Thankful for countless blessings left,At last to meet them there.
HEN o'er my weary eyes at last, The dew of slumber falls,How clear the visions of the past That world of dreams recalls!I live among the dead once more, Their voices round me ring;The forms, the faces loved of yore, Float by on angel's wing.
HEN o'er my weary eyes at last, The dew of slumber falls,How clear the visions of the past That world of dreams recalls!I live among the dead once more, Their voices round me ring;The forms, the faces loved of yore, Float by on angel's wing.