Page:Songs, Legends, and Ballads.djvu/311

Rh So Jacob Eibsen mourned his faithful wife, And found the world no home when she was gone. The days that seemed of old to hurry on Now dragged their course, and marred the wish that grew, When first he saw her grave, to sleep there too. But though to him, whose yearning hope outran The steady motion of the seasons' plan, The years were slow in coming, still their pace With awful sureness left a solemn trace, Like dust that settles on an open page. On Jacob Eibsen's head, bent down with age; And ere twice more the soothing rains had come, The old man had his wish, and to his home. Beneath the strange trees' shadow where she lay, They bore the rude-made bier; and from that day, When round the parent graves the brethren stood, Their new-made homesteads were no longer good, But marked they seemed by some o'erhanging dread That linked the living with the dreamless dead.