Page:Poems Sigourney, 1834.pdf/64

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and beautiful!—And can it be That in thy radiant eye there dwells no light— Upon thy cheek no smile?—I little deemed At our last parting, when thy cheering voice Breathed the soul's harmony, what shadowy form Then rose between us, and with icy dart Wrote, "Ye shall meet no more." I little deemed That thy elastic step, Death's darkened vale Would tread before me. Friend! I shrink to say Farewell to thee. In youth's unclouded morn We gaze on friendship as a graceful flower, And win it for our pleasure, or our pride. But when the stern realities of life Do clip the wings of fancy, and cold storms Rack the worn cordage of the heart, it breathes A healing essence, and a strengthening charm, Next to the hope of heaven. Such was thy love, Departed and deplored. Talents were thine Lofty and bright, the subtle shaft of wit, And that keen glance of intellect which reads, Intuitive, the deep and mazy springs Of human action. Yet such meek regard For other's feelings, such a simple grace And singleness of purpose, such respect To woman's noiseless duties sweetly blent, And tempered those high gifts, that every heart That feared their splendour, loved their goodness too. I see thy home of birth. Its pleasant halls