Full Online Books
BOOK CATEGORIES
Authors Authors Short Stories Short Stories Long Stories Long Stories Funny Stories Funny Stories Love Stories Love Stories Stories For Kids Stories For Kids Poems Poems Essays Essays Nonfictions Nonfictions Plays Plays Folktales Folktales Fairy Tales Fairy Tales Fables Fables Learning Kitchen Learning Kitchen
LINKS
Valid XHTML 1.0 Transitional Free Classified Website Without Registration Free Classified Website Daniel Company
Twitter Twitter Add book
donate
Full Online Book HomePoemsOf Her Who Died
Famous Authors (View All Authors)
Of Her Who Died Post by :ruchir Category :Poems Author :Hattie Howard Date :November 2011 Read :1469

Click below to download : Of Her Who Died (Format : PDF)

Of Her Who Died

We look up to the stars tonight,
Idolatrous of them,
And dream that Heaven is in sight,
And each a ray of purest light
From some celestial gem
In her bright diadem.

Before that lonely home we wait,
Ah! nevermore to see
Her lovely form within the gate
Where heart and hearthstone desolate
And vine and shrub and tree
Seem asking: "Where is she?"

There is the cottage Love had planned--
Where hope in ashes lies--
A tower beautiful to stand,
Her monument whose gentle hand
And presence in the skies
Make home of Paradise.

In wintry bleakness nature glows
Beneath the stellar ray;
We see the mold, but not the rose,
And meditate if knowledge goes
Into yon mound of clay,
With her who passed away.

Of sighs, and tears, and joys denied
Do echoes reach up there?
Do seraphs know--God does--how wide
And deep is sorrow's bitter tide
Of dolor and despair,
And darkness everywhere?

Dear angel, snatched from our caress,
So suddenly withdrawn,
Alone are we and comfortless;
As in a dome of emptiness
The old routine goes on,
Aimless, since thou art gone.

Oh, dearer unto us than aught
In all the world beside
Of thee to cherish blessed thought;
So early thy sweet mission wrought,
As friend, as promised bride,
Who lived, and loved, and died.


(The end)
Hattie Howard's poem: Of Her Who Died

If you like this book please share to your friends :
NEXT BOOKS

Thanksgiving Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving
Nature, erewhile so marvelously lovely, is bereft Of her supernal charm; And with the few dead garlands of departed splendor left, Like crape upon her arm, In boreal hints, and sudden gusts That fan the glowing ember,
PREVIOUS BOOKS

Lightning-bugs Lightning-bugs

Lightning-bugs
Around my vine-wreathed portico, At evening, there's a perfect glow Of little lights a-flashing-- As if the stellar bodies had From super-heat grown hyper-mad, And spend their ire in clashing. As frisky each as shooting star, These tiny electricians are The Lampyrine Linnæan-- Or lightning-bugs, that sparkling gleam Like scintillations in a dream Of something empyrean. They
NEXT 10 BOOKS | PREVIOUS 10 BOOKS | RANDOM 10 BOOKS
LEAVE A COMMENT