A DEATH-SCENE
"O day! he cannot die
When thou so fair art shining!
O Sun, in such a glorious
sky,
So tranquilly declining;
He cannot leave thee now,
While fresh west winds are
blowing,
And all around his youthful
brow
Thy cheerful light is glowing!
Edward, awake, awake--
The golden evening gleams
Warm and bright on Arden's
lake--
Arouse thee from thy dreams!
Beside thee, on my knee,
My dearest friend, I pray
That thou, to cross the
eternal sea,
Wouldst yet one hour delay:
I hear its billows roar--
I see them foaming high;
But no glimpse of a further
shore
Has blest my straining eye.
Believe not what they urge
Of Eden isles beyond;
Turn back, from that tempestuous
surge,
To thy own native land.
It is not death, but pain
That struggles in thy breast--
Nay, rally, Edward, rouse
again;
I cannot let thee rest!"
One long look, that sore
reproved me
For the woe I could not
bear--
One mute look of suffering
moved me
To repent my useless prayer:
And, with sudden check, the
heaving
Of distraction passed away;
Not a sign of further grieving
Stirred my soul that awful
day.
Paled, at length, the sweet
sun setting;
Sunk to peace the twilight
breeze:
Summer dews fell softly,
wetting
Glen, and glade, and silent
trees.
Then his eyes began to weary,
Weighed beneath a mortal
sleep;
And their orbs grew strangely
dreary,
Clouded, even as they would
weep.
But they wept not, but they
changed not,
Never moved, and never closed;
Troubled still, and still
they ranged not--
Wandered not, nor yet reposed!
So I knew that he was dying--
Stooped, and raised his
languid head;
Felt no breath, and heard
no sighing,
So I knew that he was dead. |