WITH WILD FLOWERS TO A SICK SISTER. RISE from the dells where ye first were born, frown On your plebeian vestures look haughtily down, Shrink not-for His finger your heads hath bowed, Who heeds the lowly, and humbles the proud,- Have meted your robes with a miser's eye, Is health to the bosom on which ye die. SIGOURNEY. 66 MOTHER, WHAT IS DEATH? “MOTHER, how still the baby lies! I cannot see his laughing eyes— "My little work I thought to bring, 66 They say that he again will rise More beautiful than now, That God will bless him in the skiesO, mother, tell me how." “Daughter, do you remember, dear, The cold, dark thing you brought And laid upon the casement hereA withered worm you thought? "I told you that Almighty power Could break that withered shell, And show you, in a future hour, Something would please you well. 74 MOTHER, WHAT IS DEATH? "Look at the chrysalis, my love An empty shell it lies; Now raise your wondering glance above "O yes, mamma, how very gay "O mother, now I know full well, "How beautiful will brother be, GILMAN. LINES, WRITTEN FOR A SOCIETY WHOSE MOTTO WAS 66 FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND TRUTH." WHEN "Friendship, Love, and Truth" abound The cup of joy goes gaily round, Sweet roses grace the thorny way The flowers that shed their leaves to-day How grand in age, how fair in youth, On halcyon wings our moments pass, Old Time lays down his scythe and glass, His reverend front adorning, Night soften'd into morning. How grand in age, how fair in youth, Are holy"Friendship, Love, and Truth." 76 THE DYING GIRL. From these, delightful fountains flow, Can man desire, can Heaven bestow, Where every star, with modest light, How grand in age, how fair in youth, MONTGOMERY. THE DYING GIRL. SISTER, Death's veil is gathering fast, The spirit of the tear-gemmed throne I leave thee, sister-thee, the last, The light from sorrow's pinion shed. |