YES! there are real mourners,-1 have seen A fair sad girl, mild, suffering, and serene; Attention (through the day) her duties claimed, And to be useful as resigned she aimed; Neatly she drest, nor vainly seemed t' expect Pity for grief, or pardon for neglect ; But when her wearied parents sunk to sleep, She sought her place to meditate and weep; Then to her mind was all the past displayed, That faithful memory brings to sorrow's aid: For then she thought on one regretted youth, TT ar tender trust, and his unquestioned truth; Eu every place she wandered, where they'd been, And sadly-sacred held the parting scene, Where last for sea he took his leave; that place With double interest would she nightly trace!
Happy he sailed, and great the cares he took,
That he should softly sleep and smartly look;
White was his better linen, and his check
Was made more trim than any on the deck;
And every comfort men at sea can know,
Was her's to buy, to make, and to bestow:
For he to Greenland sailed, and much she told,
How he should guard against the climate's cold;
Yet saw not danger; dangers he'd withstood,
Nor could she trace the fever in his blood.
His messmates smiled at flushings on his cheek, And he too smiled, but seldom would he speak ; For now he found the danger, felt the pain, With grievous symptoms he could not explain. He called his friend, and prefaced with a sigh A lover's message.— Thomas, I must die : Would I could see my Sally, and could rest My throbbing temples on her faithful breast, And gazing go!-if not, this trifle take, And say, till death I wore it for her sake: Yes! I must die-blow on, sweet breeze, blow on, Give me one look before my life be gone, Oh! give me that, and let me not despair, One last fond look!—and now repeat the prayer.' He had his wish, had more: I will not paint The lovers' meeting; she beheld him faint,― With tender fears, she took a nearer view, Her terrors doubling as her hopes withdrew: He tried to smile; and, half succeeding, said, "Yes! I must die”—and hope forever fled. Still long she nursed him; tender thoughts meantime Were interchanged, and hopes and views sublime.
To her he came to die, and every day
She took some portion of the dread away;
With him she prayed, to him his Bible read,
Soothed the faint heart, and held the aching head:
She came with smiles the hour of pain to cheer,
Apart she sighed; alone, she shed the tear;
Then, as if breaking from a cloud, she gave
Fresh light, and gilt the prospect of the grave.
One day he lighter seemed, and they forgot
The care, the dread, the anguish of their lot;
They spoke with cheerfulness, and seemed to think,
Yet said not so" Perhaps he will not sink."
A sudden brightness in his look appeared,
A sudden vigour in his voice was heard ;-
She had been reading in the Book of Prayer,
And led him forth, and placed him in his chair;
Lively he seemed, and spake of all he knew,
The friendly many, and the favourite few ;
Nor one that day did he to mind recall,
But she has treasured, and she loves them all;
When in her way she meets thein, they appear
Peculiar people-death has made them dear.
He named his friend, but then his hand she prest,
And fondly whispered, "Thou must go to rest."
"I go," he said; but as he spoke, she found
His hand more cold, and fluttering was the sound;
Then gazed affrighted; but she caught a last,
A dying look of love, and all was past!
She placed a decent stone his grave above,
Neatly engraved-an offering of her love;
For that she wrought, for that forsook her bed,
Awake alike to duty and the dead;
She would have grieved, had friends presumed to spare
The least assistance-'twas her proper care.
Here will she come, and on the grave will sit,
Folding her arms, in long abstracted fit:
But if observer pass, will take her round,
And careless seem, for she would not be found;
Then go again, and thus her hours employ,
While visions please her, and while woes destroy.
Then died lamented, in the strength of life,
A valued Mother and a faithful Wife;
Called not away, when time had loosed each hold
On the fond heart, and each desire grew cold;
But when to all that knit us to our kind,
She felt fast bound, as charity can bind ;-
Not when the ills of age, its pain, its care,
The drooping spirit for its fate prepare;
And, each affection failing, leaves the heart
Loosed from life's charm, and willing to depart ;-
But ALL her ties the strong invader broke,
In all their strength, by one tremendous stroke:
Sudden and swift the eager pest came on,
And terror grew, till every hope was gone:
Still those around appeared for hope to seek!
But viewed the sick and were afraid to speak.
Slowly they bore, with solemn step, the dead :— When grief grew loud and bitter tears were shed :— My part began; a crowd drew near the place,
Awe in each eye, alarm in every
So swift the ill, and of so fierce a kind,
That fear with pity, mingled in each mind;
Friends with the husband came, their griefs to blend;
For good-man Frankford was to all a friend.
The last-born boy they held above the bier,
He knew not grief, but cries expressed his fear;
Each different age and sex revealed its pain,
In now a louder, now a lower strain:
While the meek father, listening to their tones,
Swelled the full cadence of the grief by groans
The elder sister strove her pangs to hide,
And soothing words to younger minds applied
"Be still, be patient," oft she strove to say;
But failed as oft, and weeping turned away.
Curious and sad, upon the fresh-dug hill,
The village-lads stood melancholy still;
And idle children, wandering to-and-fro,
As nature guided, took the tone of wo
Arrived at home, how then they gazed around,
In every place—where she, no more, was found;
The seat at table she was wont to fill ;
The fire-side chair, still set, but vacant still;
The garden walks, a labour all her own;
The lattice bower with trailing shrubs o'ergrown;
The Sunday-pew, she filled with all her race;
Each place of her's, was now a sacred place,
That, while it called up sorrows in the eyes,
Pierced the full heart, and forced them still to rise.
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