Classic Poem

Day dawned:—Within a curtained room,
Filled to faintness with perfume,
A lady lay at point of doom.

Day closed;—A Child had seen the light;
But for the lady, fair and bright,
She rested in undrearing night.

Spring rose:—The lady's grave was green;
And near it often-times was seen
A gentle Boy, with thoughtful mien.

Years fled:—He wore a manly face,
And struggled in the world's rough race,
And won, at last, a lofty place.

And then—he died! Behold, before ye,
Humanity's poor sum and story;
Life,—Death,—and all that is of Glory.