Poems Sigourney 1827/On the Death of an accomplished Physician
ON THE DEATH OF AN ACCOMPLISHED PHYSICIAN.
Spirit of bright intelligence!—that beam'd
Through the quick-darting eye, and sat enthroned
On that pure smile which seem'd not of the earth!
Spirit of mild benevolence!—that hung
O'er the wan sufferer's couch, soothing his pangs
Regardless of thy own.—Spirit!—that loved
To rove amid the scenes of other days,
The shades of ancient story,—and the bowers
Of classic Fancy,—whither art thou flown?—
Why am I answer'd by the rushing sigh?—
Alas!—I know it all!—I mark'd the sign
In that deep hectic flush which stain'd thy cheek
When thou didst part from us, and knew that death
Lent that brief beauty ere he set his seal
Of icy paleness.—Thou didst go to seek
Hygeia o'er the wave,—and in those climes
Where she delights to revel.—But her gifts
Were not for thee.—Her fountain was close-seal'd
To thy parch'd lip.—And didst thou fall alone?—
Unwept, uncherish'd.—No!—in stranger breasts
Love rose to meet thee,—and a foreign voice
In holiest accents bade thee rest in peace.—
—Thy God forsook thee not,—and thy meek soul
Communing with its Saviour, saw the world
Recede unmourn'd.—Thy mouldering ashes fill
A foreign tomb,—but thou hast found a home
From whence is no departing,—where thy heart
No more vibrating on the arrow's point
Of this unpitying world,—expands to taste
Fulness of bliss.—