Ha! that start of horror!-Why Is there madness in her brain? God have mercy!—Icy cold Ring and bracelet all are gone, Half a sigh and half a moan: "Fear not! give the dead her own!" Ah!-the dead wife's voice she knows! In his arms the strong man folds her, Closer to his breast he holds her; Trembling limbs his own are meeting, And he feels her heart's quick beating: "Nay, my dearest, why this fear?" "Hush!" she saith, "the dead is here!" "Nay, a dream,-an idle dream." But before the lamp's pale gleam Tremblingly her hand she raises,— There no more the diamond blazes, Clasp of pearl, or ring of gold,"Ah!" she sighs, "her hand was cold!" Broken words of cheer he saith, But his dark lip quivereth, And as o'er the past he thinketh, From his young wife's arms he shrinketh; Can those soft arms round him lie, Underneath his dead wife's eye? She her fair young head can rest And in trustful innocence Draw new strength and courage thence; But the cowardice of sin! She can murmur in her thought One, who living shrank with dread Ah, the dead, the unforgot! From their solemn homes of thought, Back upon the living look. And the tenderest ones and weakest, Who their wrongs have borne the meekest, Lifting from those dark, still places, Sweet and sad-remembered faces, O'er the guilty hearts behind An unwitting triumph find. THE FAREWELL OF A VIRGINIA SLAVE MOTHER TO HER DAUGHTERS SOLD INTO SOUTHERN Gone, gone,-sold and gone, Gone, gone,-sold and gone, To the rice-swamp dank and lone. Gone, gone,-sold and gone, Gone, gone,-sold and gone, To the rice-swamp dank and lone. O, when weary, sad, and slow, From the fields at night they go, Faint with toil, and racked with pain, To their cheerless homes again, There no brother's voice shall greet them,There no father's welcome meet them. Gone, gone,-sold and gone, To the rice-swamp dank and lone, Gone, gone,-sold and gone, To the rice-swamp dank and lone. From the tree whose shadow lay On their childhood's place of play,— From the cool spring where they drank,— Rock, and hill, and rivulet bank, From the solemn house of prayer, Gone, gone, -sold and gone, Gone, gone, -sold and gone, To the rice-swamp dank and lone,- |