The Dead [pp. 224]

224
The Dead.
or furnish but just light enough to make that
darkness visible. On the other hand, it would
be as vain as it would be tedious, to enumerate
the countless conquests of the human mind. It is
enough to knowthatknowledge enables man gradually to reduce all other animals that roam the
earth,-the whole mineral and vegetable kingdoms-the elements themselves, armed as they
are for destruction-under his dominion: to tame
even the wrathful lightning into an obedient
slave to fetch and carry at his command; and
heedless of " whirlwinds and the northern blast,"
to ride, like a God, fearlessly above the raging
seas. Truly, most truly, knowledge is power.
[To be concluded in our next.]
THE DEAD.
BY MIRS E. H. EVANS.
I.
The DEAD!-the still-remembered Dead.
Where roam their disembodied souls?
What scenes attract?-what law controls
The immortal state to which they're wed?
II.
Reach they at once the Central Throne,
Uplifted by Angelic wings?
And strike they now the quivering strings
Once touched by Cherub hands alone?
III.
Or dwell they in some nigher sphere,
Lit by our Sun!-and silvery moons,
What tihte the Night her state assumes
Of splendor only dreamed of here?
IV.
Wear they ethereal forms that keep
Some semblance to the mortal frame;
And should we know them, if they came
To smile upon us as we weep?
V.
Then whence this strange, o'erpowering dread,
That chills us, when we stand beside
Her who was late our joy and pride,
Now robed in vestments of the dead!
VI.
She was so soft-so mild-so fair!
So loving to the lowliest thing
That shared with her life's blossoming;
Withal so timid:-all our care
VII.
For her seemed needed; wintry storms
Blew not upon her budding grace,
Nor Summer suns might leave their trace
Too rudely on her blushing charms.
VIII.
So quickly swelled her throbbing heart,
So filled with sudden tears her eyes
At others' woe-we hushed our sighs
And kept from her each grief apart.
IX.
And how it roused our wildest mirth,
And waked her dimpling smiles to hear
That any living thing had fear
Of her, so gentle from her birth.
X.
Yet now she resteth cold and white
With solemn brow, and rigid Ips,
And'neath the veiling lids' eclipse,
There seems to lurk intensest night.
XI.
There is an air of grandeur cast
O'er all her form-a solemn state
Invests this closing scene of fate,
The strangest-as it is the last.
XII.
What! THis our flower! our petted Dove!
Our childlike, gentle-hearted friend!
So Queenly cold!-ah, fatal end
Of hope, and all the dreams of love.
XIII.
The walls' still drapery-smooth and fair,
The mirror veiled by careful hands The whispered words-the stealthy bands
Of friends that mount the winding stair;
XIV.
All strike a terror, words are faint
To utter, in the soul dismayed
We start at our own stels, afraid,
And shudder at each smothered plaint.
XV.
The Veil we fear to put aside,
She's passed within. She feels and knows,
The mysteries its folds enclose; Knows what earth's mightiest has defied.
XVI.
One kiss upon her icy brow
And on her lifeless hands, that rest
Like sculptured ivory on her breast, Then for long hours of lonely woe.
XVII.
The vacant room;-The empty chair!
The book left open where she read
On the last day of health,-the bed
Unpressed! One lock of sunny hair
XVIII.
Alone we keep above the ground,
Of all the beauty and the grace
That made these halls their dwelling-place,
And cast a radiant halo round.
XIX.
The DEAD! The ever cherished DEAD!
Where roams HER disembodied soul?
What scenes are dear? What laws control
The immortal state to which SHE's wed?
1852.
[APRIL,