And oft, as I retired from circle gay
Of smiling friends, I wove a cheerful lay,
Breathing affection tender, pure, and high,
To Her whose late-found friendship thou and I
Ne'er can repay, or value worthily.
Ah, me how sweetly were two mornings spent,
When, rising with the lark, alone I went
Through vale and grove, o'er verdant slope and hill,
By the stream side, and freely took my fill
Of pleasant fancies, framing at my ease
Thoughts full of love and dear remembrances
Into epistolary rhyme; and when
Night with her shades enveloped us again,
And the last words of evening prayer were said,
And, one by one, each worn and weary head
Save mine had sunk to rest upon its bed,
How blithely did my solitary light
Fling its pale ray athwart the gloom of night,
While with glad heart I plied my busy pen,
And mused and wrote, and wrote and mused again.
Ah! little deem'd I, at that task of joy,
What deadly pangs had seized my infant boy,
What grievous woe awaited thee and me.
My task was finish'd, and triumphantly
Committed to the post ;-but ere 'twas done,
I, though I knew it not, had lost a son!
That blow came sharp and sudden; when I sail'd, The hue of gathering sickness scarce had paled Our darling's cheek, and when upstairs I bent My lingering steps, to kiss him ere I went,
Methought that there was something in his look,
I knew not what, that for a moment shook
My heart with vague forebodings, undefined,
And speedily dismiss'd;—my sanguine mind,
Prompt to anticipate the best, is slow
To harbour forethought of impending woe:
And when ere long a letter came from thee,
Which told me of thy past anxiety,
And danger now no more; my heart believed
That which it wish'd; and though at times I grieved
To think that sickness should invade the spot
Where thou still wert, and I, alas! was not,
I flung all fear aside, and thank'd our God
For thus withdrawing the uplifted rod.
Short was my triumph; the next post laid low
All my fair hopes, and plunged me deep in woe.
How hadst thou fared thro' all that dreadful time,
While I, far off, inditing pleasant rhyme,
Dream'd of no ill, save what seem'd ill to me,
To lack thy smiles and sweet society;
To think how many a thrilling look and word,
By me should be unseen, by me unheard,
From the sweet lips and pleasure-beaming eyes
Of our three darlings, every morn to rise
Unsummon'd by their voices, or by thine,
All day, though circled by loved friends, to pine
For others dearer still, and then at night
To miss the pure and exquisite delight
Of their last kiss-to dream of them, till day
Chased the last visions of the night away:
And the light, darting through my window pane, Summon'd me forth to walk and dream again : Grieved I at this? ah! slender grief I ween; What had I felt had we together been?
Had each fierce pang which pierced thee through and through
Struck on my heart, and wrung my spirit too;
Each hope, each fear which shook that soul of thine
Thrill'd with the selfsame bitterness through mine;
Had I been doom'd to witness each dread pain
Which rack'd his guiltless heart and guileless brain,
To listen to his weak and wailing cry,
To watch his tearful and imploring eye,
Craving the boon thou couldst not but deny,
One little drop to slake that bitter thirst—
Had I seen this, I think my heart had burst.
Yea, when the hour of mortal pain was past,
And the exhausted spirit, ebbing fast,
Had ta'en the speculation from that eye
Once so lit up with infant brilliancy;
When the calm hush of that most dread repose
Spoke suffering past, and life about to close
Till, as he faintly drew his last weak breath,
Thou look'dst and look'dst, and scarcely knew'st
'twas death-
Had I seen this, which thou didst see alone,
I think e'en Reason would have left her throne: And what thy gentle soul could scarce sustain, Had crush'd my sterner heart, and overwhelm'd my
Why was I spared? with what unknown intent Reserved, perhaps, for sharper punishment : And oh! more needed, more deserved than thine : For, throughout this, a Providence divine
Seems to have turn'd grief's sharpest darts from me, To fix them still more stingingly in thee.
Thine was the struggle, while thy husband slept;
'Twas thy heart bled, thy gentle eyes that wept,
While death and life contended—he meanwhile,
Divided from thy side by many a mile,
Knew nothing of thy pangs, nor could assuage
By speech or look thy sorrow's wildest rage,
Nor e'en partake it with thee:-thou wast fain
To bear alone that grievous load of pain,
Unsoothed, unaided by a husband's love,
But, seeking thy best solace from above,
Kissing the rod which smote thee :-but for me
The bitter shock was soften'd graciously,
Not only by the space which lay between
Me and the terrors of that fearful scene,
But by a train of circumstances, slight
Themselves, yet used by mercy infinite
To break and mitigate the first dead blow
Which else had well nigh crush'd me with a woe
Too grievous to be borne; my sterner heart
Had been prepared and disciplined in part,
For that which was to come, by what was past;
The news of that first danger made the last
And mortal stroke, though unexpected, still
A less undream'd of, unimagined ill
Than it had been till then; the sudden call
To swift and public travel; most of all,
The last few days' employment, which had wrought
A world within me of Elysian thought-
The sense of comfort minister'd by me
So recently to others, and to be
Repaid, as I well knew, with usury,
The very thought of thee in thy deep grief
Pining for me, and for that poor relief
Which I alone of earthly friends could bring,--
Even this contributed to dull the sting
Of my own sorrow; yet, when morning broke
O'er Canterbury's towers, and I awoke
From the light slumber which had come to close
My travel-wearied eyes in brief repose,
When, hastening onward, I discern'd the bay
With all its shore-built dwellings, through the grey
Of twilight, and remember'd that there lay
My
infant's corpse; ah me, how dull a weight
Press'd on my heart, how blank and desolate
The world seem'd then to me! Why rack again
Thy soul and mine, by dwelling on the pain
Of our sad meeting? Why record the sighs
Which heaved our breasts, the tears which from
Gush'd, as we stood in silence side by side
In that sad room in which our darling died,
And view'd him in his coffin? why recall
The pang of parting with the little all
Still left us of his beauty, when the day
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