Classic Poem

Gone from us hast thou, in thy girlish hours,
What time the tenderest blooms of summer cease;
In thy young bosom bearing life's sweet flowers
To the good city of eternal peace.

In the soft stops of silver singing rain,
Faint be the falling of the pale red light
O'er thy meek slumber, wrapt away from pain
In the fair robes of dainty bridal white.

Seven nights the stars have wandered through the blue,
Since thou to larger, holier life wert born;
And day as often, sandaled with gray dew,
Has trodden out the golden fires of morn.

The wearying tumult of unending strife,
The jars that through the heart discordant ring,
Drive the dim current of our mortal life
Against the shore where reigns unending spring.

And though I mourn for Leilia, she who died
When all the tenderest blossoms ceased to be,
Her being's broken wave has multiplied
The stars that shine across eternity.