Elegiac Stanzas

Thy faithful lover stands beside thy melancholy tomb!
The tomb which shrouds thee from mine eyes in its unhallowed gloom.
Awake! arise!—my open arms would tear thee from thy pall―
Mingle thy heart with mine! O hear my anguish-moving call!
The fates—the frightful fates—which closed the grave upon thee there,
Dissolved my heart, my hope, in mists which melted in the air.
Death! why wert thou so cruel? Why, with faithfulness like ours,
Why didst thou blast mirth's opening bud, that soon would bloom in flowers?
Why trample on those morning gems which in such meekness grew,
And just in morning's twilight smiled, and drank love's early dew?
Was it a triumph fit for thee a lowly stem to crush—
To break a feeble twig—to mow a bruised and broken rush?
I speak—she hears not—no reply—no echo can intrude,
No sound may vibrate from the grave, or break its solitude.
Once even a whisper touch'd her soul―was music in her ears;
Now is she senseless to my cries, and heedless of my tears:
A tear―which once could melt her heart and agitate her thought,
Whate'er I felt she felt―to each common doom was brought;
But death has cut the holy band―and now her heavenly eye
Shall ne'er be wet with selfish tears, nor tears of sympathy.
Sleep, sleep, sweet spirit! sleep in peace―I will not mourn―I feel,
Though thou art silent, yet I dwell within thy bosom still.
But I, while still I toil along through life's devoted road,
Must bear in hopelessness and grief my overwhelming load.