Our Poet’s Grave.

Just where the willow, old beyond remembrance,1
Casts its deep shadow o’er the daisied grass,2
Where robins build, and where the noisy footsteps3
Of the world’s throng but very seldom pass.4
T’was here we laid our Poet down, when sleeping,5
Deaf, for the first time, to the voice of Love,6
Tir’d, tho’ so young, of this world’s fret and passion,7
And longing for eternal rest above !8
Ah ! how we lov’d him, gentle, uncomplaining,9
Bright-eyed tho’ weighted with a heavy cross,10
Tender and patient— making sweetest poësy,11
How can we ever cease to feel his loss ?12
No greybeard cynic—Hope was aye his motto !13
Sunlight will smile beyond the clouds’ dark
gloom ;
All is not ended—Life eternal waits us,15
And triumphs o’er the shadows and the Tomb !”16
Such was his teaching—ah ! my dear, dead singer,17
You came amongst us in an angel’s guise,18
You scatter’d songs of praise and hope around us,19
Hire passing to your home beyond the skies,20
A bright, brief journey ”— and a tender parting,21
Heartbroken sobs from those who lov’d you so,22
Weak words of comfort from the lips that murmur’d23
Nay, weep not, dear ones, I am glad to go !”24
Calmly he rests—the willow weeping o’er him,25
The pink-tipp’d daisies blooming at his feet ;26
The birds he lov’d because they sang his anthems, —27
Leaving him never in his calm retreat,28
Our gentle Poet ! all your brave, bright teaching29
Still lives, altho’ your Cross has broken down ;—30
The laurel wreath is wither’d on your forehead,31
But bright for ever glows the golden crown !32