Thursday, May 3, 2018

The Graves of a Household By Felicia Dorothea Hemans (1793–1835)

The Graves of a Household
Felicia Dorothea Hemans (1793–1835)
THEY grew in beauty side by side,
  They fill’d one home with glee;—
Their graves are sever’d far and wide,
  By mount, and stream, and sea.

The same fond mother bent at night        5
  O’er each fair sleeping brow:
She had each folded flower in sight—
  Where are those dreamers now?

One, ’midst the forests of the West,
  By a dark stream is laid—        10
The Indian knows his place of rest,
  Far in the cedar-shade.

The sea, the blue lone sea, hath one—
  He lies where pearls lie deep;
He was the loved of all, yet none        15
  O’er his low bed may weep.

One sleeps where Southern vines are drest
  Above the noble slain:
He wrapt his colours round his breast
  On a blood-red field of Spain.        20

And one—o’er her the myrtle showers
  Its leaves, by soft winds fann’d;
She faded ’midst Italian flowers—
  The last of that bright band.

And parted thus they rest, who play’d        25
  Beneath the same green tree;
Whose voices mingled as they pray’d
  Around one parent knee;

They that with smiles lit up the hall,
  And cheer’d with song the hearth!—        30
Alas, for love! if thou wert all.
  And naught beyond, O Earth!