| |
| VAINLY for us the sunbeams shine, | |
| Dimm’d is our joyous hearth; | |
| O Casa, dearer dust than thine | |
| Ne’er mix’d with mother earth! | |
| Thou wert the corner-stone of love, | 5 |
| The keystone of our fate; | |
| Thou art not! Heaven scowls dark above, | |
| And earth is desolate. | |
| |
| Ocean may rave with billows curl’d | |
| And moons may wax and wane, | 10 |
| And fresh flowers blossom; but this world | |
| Shall claim not thee again. | |
| Clos’d are the eyes which bade rejoice | |
| Our hearts till love ran o’er; | |
| Thy smile is vanish’d and thy voice | 15 |
| Silent for evermore. | |
| |
| Yes; thou art gone—our hearth’s delight, | |
| Our boy so fond and dear; | |
| No more thy smiles to glad our sight, | |
| No more thy songs to cheer; | 20 |
| No more thy presence, like the sun, | |
| To fill our home with joy: | |
| Like lightning hath thy race been run, | |
| As bright as swift, fair boy. | |
| |
| Now winter with its snow departs, | 25 |
| The green leaves clothe the tree; | |
| But summer smiles not on the hearts | |
| That bleed and break for thee: | |
| The young May weaves her flowery crown, | |
| Her boughs in beauty wave; | 30 |
| They only shake their blossoms down | |
| Upon thy silent grave. | |
| |
| Dear to our souls is every spot | |
| Where thy small feet have trod; | |
| There odours, breath’d from Eden, float, | 35 |
| And sainted is the sod; | |
| The wild bee with its buglet fine, | |
| The blackbird singing free, | |
| Melt both thy mother’s heart and mine: | |
| They speak to us of thee! | 40 |
| |
| Only in dreams thou comest now | |
| From Heaven’s immortal shore, | |
| A glory round that infant brow, | |
| Which Death’s pale signet bore: | |
| ’Twas thy fond looks, ’twas thy fond lips, | 45 |
| That lent our joys their tone; | |
| And life is shaded with eclipse, | |
| Since thou from earth art gone. | |
| |
| Thine were the fond, endearing ways, | |
| That tenderest feeling prove; | 50 |
| A thousand wiles to win our praise, | |
| To claim and keep our love; | |
| Fondness for us thrill’d all thy veins; | |
| And, Casa, can it be | |
| That nought of all the past remains | 55 |
| Except vain tears for thee? | |
| |
| Idly we watch thy form to trace | |
| In children on the street; | |
| Vainly, in each familiar place, | |
| We list thy pattering feet; | 60 |
| Then, sudden, o’er these fancies crush’d, | |
| Despair’s black pinions wave; | |
| We know that sound for ever hush’d: | |
| We look upon thy grave. | |
| |
| O heavenly child of mortal birth! | 65 |
| Our thoughts of thee arise, | |
| Not as a denizen of earth, | |
| But inmate of the skies: | |
| To feel that life renew’d is thine | |
| A soothing balm imparts; | 70 |
| We quaff from out Faith’s cup divine, | |
| And Sabbath fills our hearts. | |
| |
| Thou leanest where the fadeless wands | |
| Of amaranth bend o’er; | |
| Thy white wings brush the golden sands | 75 |
| Of Heaven’s refulgent shore. | |
| Thy home is where the psalm and song | |
| Of angels choir abroad, | |
| And blessed spirits, all day long, | |
| Bask round the throne of God. | 80 |
| |
| There change and change are not; the soul | |
| Quaffs bliss as from a sea, | |
| And years, through endless ages, roll, | |
| From sin and sorrow free: | |
| There gush for aye fresh founts of joy, | 85 |
| New raptures to impart; | |
| Oh! dare we call thee still our boy, | |
| Who now a seraph art? | |
| |
| A little while—a little while— | |
| Ah! long it cannot be! | 90 |
| And thou again on us wilt smile, | |
| Where angels smile on thee. | |
| How selfish is the worldly heart: | |
| How sinful to deplore! | |
| Oh! that we were where now thou art, | 95 |
| Not lost, but gone before. | |
| |
