The Place of Remembrance


W HERE wouldst thou think of her? Where the young flowers
Spring through the turf where so often she lay,
Wearily watching the long summer hours,
Last of her lifetime, fleet slowly away?

There by the garden-wall, cover'd with roses,
Where, in the shelter, she linger'd so late,
Under the tree where the shadow reposes,
Over the spot where at noontime she sate?

Down the green walk where you drew her so slowly,
Patient and sweet in her helpless decay,
In her own chamber, the haunted and holy,
There wouldst thou dream of thy darling to-day?

Where wouldst thou think of her, darkling and dreary?
In the lone room where her spirit took flight;
Passing away, as a child that is weary
Turns to its cradle, nor wishes Good-night?

Where, like a wild dream, thy heart still remembers
The lingering smile on the motionless clay—
A flame that lives on in the light of its embers—
There wouldst thou dream of thy darling to-day?

Not in the greenwood glade—hearts need not borrow
Helps from dead nature to teach them to weep,
Not in that lonely room;—why should thy sorrow
Brood o'er her, silent and shrouded in sleep?

Go to the altar, where, morning and even,
The low voice has mingled, the brighThead bow'd down,
Pouring her heart out in commune with Heaven,
Taking His cross up who gave her the crown.

Everywhere, everywhere holdeth communion,
Loving and cheering, her spirit with thine,
But in a holier, happier union,
Meet you with praises to-night at the shrine.

Then in the vale, when the waters are swelling,
Go where the desolate bird finds a nest,
Go to His holy and beautiful dwelling,
The courts of the Lord, where she dwelt and was blest.

Where the Church mingles her happy departed,
Victors gone home with the strugglers who stay,
Bringing forth balm for the desolate-hearted,—
There shouldst thou dream of thy darling to-day!
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