Mourning

How aspen, whisperings by the meadow stream ;
Long agonies of night-winds in the forest pines ;
Wail of some love-bird who has lost his dream ;
Sad dirge of Autumn in the wood confines—
These have a voice, a solemn requiem,
Filling the deepest chambers of my soul
With music sad whose swelling theme doth roll
Into despair, crown'd with Grief's diadem.
But from that land whose memories ne'er pale,
To me there came a poignant agony—
A sob of bitter grief, a broken wail,
Drawn from the depths of Love, Maternity :
The song of Rachel weeping for her dead ;
Love mourning for its heaven too soon fled.