Alice Beckwith

The beautiful hath fled
To join the spirit-train;
Earth interposed with strong array,
Love stretch'd his arms to bar her way,
All,--all in vain.

There was a bridal hope
Before her crown'd with flowers;
The orange blossoms took the hue
With which the cypress dank with dew
Darkeneth our bowers.

Affections strong and warm
Sprang round her gentle way,
Young Childhood, with a moisten'd eye,
And Friendship's tenderest sympathy
Watch'd her decay.

Disease around her couch
Long held a tyrant sway,
Till vanished from her cheek, the rose,
And the fair flesh like vernal snows
Wasted away.

Yet the dark Angel's touch
Dissolv'd that dire control,
And where the love-knot cannot break
Nor pain nor grief intrusion make,
Bore the sweet soul.