Edwardsville spectator. [volume] (Edwardsville, Ill.) 1819-1826, 1822-06-15
POETRY.
From the Commercial advertiser.

From the Commercial advertiser.
WRITTEN AFTER SEEING THE CORPSE OF YoUN'
In the pride and glory of youthful spring.
The lamp of life hath perished-
Decay hath waved his raven wing
O'er the rose which beauty cherished
How gaily thou sported life's patl, along,
In maiden bloom, and joy and song,
How soon hath death DER thy pathway driven
And borne thee away in his arms to Heavenl
No more shall thy footstep lightly tread
Der the hill when the morning bushes
Nor thy voice its winning music shed
Where the rill in its clear wave gushes-
The stream in gladness shall flow on
Though the flower that graced sbanks is gone
And the morn shall blush, but never shine
Again, on fairer form than thine.
NO more when the summer moonbeams full,
And the summer stars are shining,
Shall thy gentle hand the lily Gull,
Its wreath with thy tresses twining-
No more shalt thou Gull the violet blue,
When its leaves are fresh with evening dew
Now-thine is the cold and icy pail
Instead oflove's gay coronal.
Where pow is the light ofthat mild blue eye ,
In oblivion darkly clouded--
Where now is thy cheek of the purest dye'
In the winding sheet enshrouded-
The germ which in life's garden sprung.
Der which affection fondly hung,
Oh where have its grace and beauty hed'
The stem is broken-the germ is dead
I saw thy mother bend DER thy bier,
While her eye glanced up to Heaven
2heard no sob-I saw no tear
But her Utmost heart was riven!
Yea, hers was that still agony,
Which works unseen and silently,
Which flows in anguish deep and stiIl,
Like the stream beneath an ice-crowncd rill.
Better it were that she would wall,
That her sorrows loudly should be spoken,
This noiseless grief oft tells the tale,
That the strings of the heart are broken
Better it were that tears should start,
From the full eye, than that the hearts
For the gathered tears that are unshed,
Are tokens true that hope is dead!
The branch hath died and the tree remains
The stem survives its flower.
So every blossom this earth contains
Must meet with the blighting hour;
Thy morning sky hath an early cloud
Thy beauty is wreathed in an early shroud-
The light and love of thy days are DER,
But grief shall veil thy brow no more.
Farewell thou hast aed in thy primal hour,
In thy sweetness of youthful blossom,
Ere sin could suly thy maiden flower,
Or profane thy guleless bosom
And freshly the myrtle boughs shall wave
Above thy form and around thy grave
And the willow branches bend in air,
For affections hand shall plant them there.
Farewell no longer to gem thy way,
Shall the light of love be glowing,
As late it gowed like the star of day,
When the stream of life was flowing;
The noontide splendor, the starlit scene,
The summer buds and the autumns sheen
Shall still pass on and still return,
But wake not thee from thy tranquil urn.
But when the zephyrs of eve shall kiss
The feecy clouds of Heaven
When the stars shall smile in the fields of bliss,
Der the deep blue vault of even,
Then fancy shall soar on the wing of love,
And picture thee in realms above,
A spirit of that immortal shore,
Where pain can wiring the never more!
FLORIO.
lsra York, .4pal Is, 1922.
A HERMITAGE.
Whose is this humble dwelling place,