Classic Poem

When June exhaled her rose-sweet breath
And earth in sunshine smiled,
Untimely came intrusive Death
And stole away our child.

As some ethereal star declines,
Slow-fading down the sky;
As wastes the dewdrop while it shines,
So did our darling die.

Ah, fairer than the violet frail,
Frost-slain on April's breast,
And purer than the lily pale,
The babe's unbreathing rest.

O hapless Victor! name of pride!
Dear hands, poor little feet!
No thorn ye found, no path ye tried;—
O envious winding-sheet!

Our eyes grew numb with tearless woe,
Prayer swooned upon the tongue,
As to his lips of smiling snow
Our anguished kisses clung.

O mournful change and utter loss!
Return, my child, return!
Or, angels, guide my faith across
The grave his state to learn.

O grant me from the vast unknown
Some breath of solacing!
The spirit! whither has it flown
On timorous alien wing?

All silent is the stolid sky;
The saints no pity lend;
My lamentation and my cry
To heedless void ascend.

My heart, my weeping, bleeding heart
Wails at the door of fate,
And faints in darkness and apart,
Bereft and desolate.

I only find, where'er I grope,
A cradle and a pall;
Find, at the gloomy verge of hope,
A grave—and that is all.

An empty cradle and a lone
Small mound of chilly sod,
O'er which I bow and vainly moan
To move the heart of God.