Gone — Not Lost

A merry voice which rang of erst
     Amid the pleasant scenes of home,
More joyous than the music-burst
     That to the dreamer’s ear doth come—
A happy voice, whose every tone
     Was fraught with gladness, pure and deep,
Hath passed from earth—its echo gone—
     And they who loved are left to weep.

A sparkling eye, which seemed while here
     A ray of light from realms above,—
Within whose depths so bright and clear
     Were nestled Purity and Love—
A pleasant eye, which shone on all
     With kindliest glance, dispelling floom,
The brightest at the festival—
     Is rayless now within the tomb.

A lovely form—in every limb
     Proportioned with exactest grace—
No longer by the side of him,
     That loved and lover, is its place:
A perfect form—alas for mirth!
     Joy is no more our spirits’ guest—
Upon the gelid lap of Earth
     The Beautiful is laid to rest!

The Spirit!—where is that which flung
     Its witchery over face and form?
Which gave its music to the tongue?
     The eye its captivating charm?
Which breathed in word, and shone in glance,
     And threw a glory over all?
Sought it a high inheritance?
     Or slumbers it beneath the pall?

Turn from the grave! a thing so pure
     Is safe from every shaft of Death,
And shall through endless years endure—
     A portion of JEHOVAH’S breath!
Turn from the grave! the all we loved
     Lives yet in worlds beyond our ken;
And who will mourn it, thus removed
     From all the toils and woes of men?

Our time will come—till then we’ll tread
     In hope the path that she hath trod,
For HE whose word is truth, hath said
     “The pure in heart are blessed of God!”
And she was pure—for eve on earth
     Her spirit caught no dimming stain—
Oh, let us emulate her worth,
     And surely shall we meet again!