O! how oft, unseen, unknown,
Does “the soul of feeling”
Muse on friends far off, or gone,
Memory’s stores unsealing.
O’er the track of years gone by,
Pleased the spirit wanders;
Breathes o’er many a spot a sigh,
Many a record ponders.
Scenes which long have disappeared,
From their sleep awaken;
Sounds by loved lost friends endeared,
Joys by them partaken.
Funeral tokens rise around,
The full heart o’erpowering;
Urns with many a garland bound,
Cypress-trees embowering.
Bright and fragrant there appear
Flowers of recollection;
Bathed by many a holy tear,
Nursed by fond affection.
O! ye loved, lamented few!
Once to me united,
Heavenward by each thought of you
Be my soul incited!
From: Elliott, Charlotte, Hours of Sorrow Cheered and Comforted, 1857, Lindsay & Blakiston: Philadelphia, pp. 31-32.
(https://archive.org/details/hourssorrowchee03elligoog)
Date: 1857
By: Charlotte Elliott (1789-1871)
From Troubles of The World 