Zinzendorff and Other Poems/Death of a Young Lady

by Lydia Huntley Sigourney

DEATH OF A YOUNG LADY.

We had a Rose,—its breast
    Was bright with pearly dew,
Nor blight, nor time had stain'd the flower,
Yet it sank away from its cherish'd bower,
    It faded where it grew.

We had a Harp,—'tis gone,
    We will not say 'tis broken,—
No—no,—its tones are deep and high,
Where music wraps in melody,
    Each thought by angels spoken.