Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1839.pdf/69

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voice is on the haunted air, Her face is in the scene; To me there is no other trace But where her steps have been. Not with the passionate despair With which I turned from Heaven, And asked how could it take again The treasure it had given; Not with that earlier wild despair, Now gaze I upon earth and air.

A meeker sorrow now subdues The soul that looks above, Soothed by the sanctity that dwells Around departed love. I do not grieve as once I grieved, When by thy funeral stone I flung me in my first despair, And knew I was alone. Gradual thy God has given me To know this world was not for thee.

Thy angel-nature was not made For struggle or for care; Thou wert too gentle and too good For Heaven long to spare. Thou wert but sent a little while To soothe and to sustain; The angels missed thee from their band, And asked for thee again: But not till thou hadst given birth To many a holy thought on earth.