Spirit of Jefferson. [volume] (Charles Town, Va. [W. Va.]) 1844-1948, 1893-08-08


And felt the power their soft depths lent
Unto q face where beauty lies,
Fond memory wovc magic spell
OF other years and other themes,
of one who bade me life's farewell
And whom only mt ct in dreams.
Like hues that haunt the morning skies
Ere yet cloud its beauty mars;
Like dawn OF light in Paradise
In that sweet hour still lii with stars;
And In its strong aud classic grace,
Thy manly form, thy regal head,
thought OF thine ancestral race,
OF one who slumbeIs with the dead.
And on thy lips read the trace
OF constancy that conquers fate
Ahl Scion of a noble race,
God willed thee never here to wait
Lone hours to wait III bitter tears
All loss of love aud hope and truet,
Such as oft cloud our earthly years
Here, where our idOls turn TO dust.
Thy brow is like the marble dream
That fhidias wrought 'ncathGrccian skies;
Thy emile angelic in it's glcan,
Or like the set of sun when dies
The day; and in the trilight hour
When seraphs seeking such as thee,
Lay on thy head the precious dover
OF love, and hope, and purity.
Thy form as graceful as the palm
beside the blue seas of the South;
Thy manners breathing of tue calm
Iby pure heart felt. About thy mouth
The charm of youth, ere yet the years
Have wrought their mark in lines of care
Or Joys beams quenched in silent tCnrs
Makes cen the soul feel lis DESPAIR.
Again there came to mc the smile
That lit thy fathers boyhood days,
And which no hours OF toll can while
From out his generous, genial waye,
And yet, across thy perfect face
lowering sadness Reemt d to wait.
A sigh whose echo left truce
oftly untimely, mournftil fate!
Had death but spared thee, noble bov.
What best could have wished for thee?
For even gold has It's alloy,
And storms oft sweep the fairest sea.
Not statesman's voice. nor fame to bring
Its thorIls with roses; neither fate
To nuke poets harp, whose string
Once broke, might leave thee desolate.
Nor soldiers plume to wave where death
Marks its deep strain on patriotic graves;
Nor sailor life where soft sea breath
Soon turns to wild aud cruel waves,
Nor days devoted TO some art
That sweeps all other thoughts away,
But triumph IN the busy mart
Where commerce holds imperial swRy.
With toll sufficient for thy strength,
Aud love sufficient for thy heart.
And duty measuring It's length
Unto each hour, till shadows part
The day from night; then sweet repose
such as they only who have trod
Lies pathway Justly ever knows,
And faith that keeps usciose TO God.
In an that rnGkes Chis MIe complete,
In dnty dcne. In daily toll,
In patience strong. IN sorrow sweet
As flowers that bloom In lowly soil,
Remembering heaven Is eFcr uesr,
But nearest still when clouded skies
Make all ife's landErapes sad and drear,
And human hearts in sbadow lies.
Life oft is measured here by years,
And love by deeds; yet. after all,
What doth It matter, il la tears
He knoweth best, He gave his blood
In manhOod's morning for all earth,
A ransom for our souls He stood
That we. in death, should find our birth.
We all dreamed not as day by day
You trod your fathers lofty height,
And saw the rivers winding wny.
The purple hills. the soft, faint light
Of sun autumnal DER il all,
That soon onr paths must severed be,
That ere the leaves should fade aud fan
You would be in Eternity.
In every rose that blooms see
The memory of ono fairer yet
In every star that beams on me.
One brighter still forever set.
since rose and star shall bloom and Shine
Upon thy youthful grave in vain;
And FculptuTed lilies shall entwine
The mound where Thy dear form Is lain.
To you, dear soul, bid goodbye,
Twere better had said fareWelIl
Since summer winds above yon sigh
Responsive 70 funeral knelI.
oh, dear, brave heart, we meet no more,
Since yOu have crossed the h harboT bar,
But thou art safe upon that shore
Who're tidelesS sleep the seas afaf
III think of thee when evening brings
Her twilight hour and geutie star;
And softly comes ON angel wings
From that sweet home so near, yet far,
A message FROM thy happy tou1
Forever free from earthly pain.
That tells me when the seasons roll
For US no more, we1l meesagain.
Thy true life now Is but begun.
'Tis We who grope in shadows drear
Upon thy days uuiading sun
Shall rlifpe; aad never cloud be near.