PASSING AWAY.
Reading edition
———
BY ANNIE GREY.
———
’Tis written on the early flower,
By a single faded leaf;
’Tis written with terrific power
Upon the burning cheek.
’Tis written with an iron pen
Upon that old man’s brow;
And mark its tyrant impress when
It touched thy darling now.
’Tis written on the fleeting smile
And on the falling tear;
’Tis seen upon that old quaint dial,
And in the grave-yard near.
’Tis written in thy mother’s touch,
And in thy father’s care;
These may not—though they love thee much—
They may not linger here.
Here, too, we see on friendship’s bond
Its shadowy impress laid;
The love we deemed so true, so fond,
Its own dark grave hath made.
Yet surely there is one thing here
Which may not pass away—
’Tis early love, so fond, so dear,
It cannot yield its sway?
Oh! mark the eye averted now,
And list to that scornful word,
And see the cherished broken vow—
E’en this hath the mandate heard.
’Tis written, then, on all things here,
On smiles, on tears, on joy, on wo,
On that we prize, on that we fear,—
All teach alike that we must go.