Part 2 — THE BROTHER’S LAMENT.
Reading edition
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BY MRS. AMELIA B. WELBY.
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One moment more, beneath the old elm, Mary,
Where last we parted in the flowing dell—
One moment more through twilight tints that vary,
To gaze upon thy grave, and then, farewell!
Ere from this spot, and these loved scenes I sever,
Where still thy lovely spirit seems to stray—
One look—to fix them on my soul forever—
And then away!
Mary, I know my steps should now be shrinking
From this sad spot—but on my mournful gaze
A scene floats up that sets my soul to thinking
On all the dear delights of other days!
I’m gazing on the little foot-bridge yonder
Thrown o’er the stream whose waters purl below,
Where I so oft have seen thee pause and ponder,
Leaning thy white brow on thy hand of snow.
I’m standing on the spot where last we parted,
Where, as I left thee in the fragrant dell,
I saw thee turn so oft—half broken-hearted—
Waving thy hand in token of farewell.
I start to meet thy footstep light and airy—
But—the cold grass waves o’er thy sweet young head;
Would that the shroud that wraps thy fair form, Mary,
Wrapped mine instead!
In vain my heart its bitter thoughts would parry,
An adder’s grasp about its chords seem curled,
For you were all I ever thought of, Mary—
Were all I doted on in this wide world!
And yet, I’d sigh not while thy fate I ponder,
Did memory only bring thee to my eyes
Pale as thou sleepest in the church-yard yonder—
Or as an angel dazzling from the skies!
I then at least could treasure each sweet token
Of thy pure love—and in life’s mad’ning whirl
Steel my crushed heart—had not thine own been broken,
Poor hapless girl!
But, Mary—Mary, when I think upon thee,
As when I last beheld thee in thy pride—
And on the fate—oh God!—to which he won thee—
I curse the hour that sent me from your side!
Oh why wert thou so richly, strangely gifted
With mortal loveliness beyond compare?
The look of love beneath thy lashes lifted—
Its fatal sweetness was to thee a snare!
Yet sleep, my sister—I will not upbraid thee—
Thou wert too sweet—too innocently dear;
But he—the exulting demon who betrayed thee—
He lives, he lives, and I am loitering here!
Even now some happier fair one’s chains may bind him
In dalliance sweet—but I’ll avenge thee well!
Avenge thee?—Yes! a brother’s curse will find him,
Though he should dive into the deeps of hell!
I swear it, sister—as thou art forgiven—
By all our wrongs—by all our severed ties,
And by the blessedness of yon blue heaven,
That gives its world of azure to mine eyes!
By all my love—by every sacred duty
A brother owes—and by yon heaving sod,
Thine early grave—and by thy blighted beauty,
Thou sweetest angel in the realms of God!
I swear it, by the bursting groans I smother,
And call on Heaven and thee to nerve me now.
Mary, look down!—behold thy wretched brother,
And bless the vow!
Sister, my soul its last farewell is taking,
And I for this had thought it nerved to-night,
But every chord about my heart seems breaking,
And blinding tears shut out the glimmering sight.
One look—one last long look to hill and meadow—
To the old foot-bridge and the murmuring mill,
And to the church-yard sleeping in the shadow—
Cease tears—and let these fond eyes look their fill!
One look—and now farewell ye scenes that vary
Beneath the twilight shades that round me flow!
The charm that bound my wild heart here, was Mary—
And she lies low!