Page:Felicia Hemans in The Pledge of Friendship 1828.pdf/5



them not! though now their name Be but a mournful sound; Though by the hearth its utterance claim A stillness round;

Though for their sake this earth no more As it hath been may be; And shadows never mark'd before, Brood o'er each tree.

And though their image dim the sky, Yet, yet forget them not! Nor, when their life and love went by, Forsake the spot!

They have a breathing influence there, A charm not elsewhere found; Sad—but it sanctiﬁes the air, The stream, the ground.

Then, though the wind an alter'd tone Through the young foliage bear; Though every flower, of something gone, A tinge may wear;

Oh! ﬂy it not!—No fruitless grief Thus in their presence felt, A record links to every leaf, There, where they dwelt.

Still trace the path which knew their tread, Still tend their garden-bower, And call them back, the holy dead, To each lone hour!

The holy dead!—Oh! blest we are, That we may name them so, And to their spirits look afar, Through all our woe!

Blest, that the things they lov’d on earth, As relics we may hold, Which wake sweet thoughts of parted worth, By springs untold.

Blest, that a deep and chastening power, Thus o'er our souls is given, If but to bird, or song, or flower, Yet, all for heaven!