Orson F. Whitney "Monody"

As tomorrow is the spring equinox, I wanted to share a poem by Orson F. Whitney about the beauty of Spring.

Monody.

Gone from my heart is the sunlight of gladness, 

Y Gone from my soul is the music of yore;

 For mine eyes are oft dim with the warm dews of sadness, 

And I sigh for the presence of one gone before.

In the springtime, and spring of her life was she taken, 

When the pitying tears of young April were shed

O'er the slumbering germlets of May, to awaken 

The sentinel flowers to vigil the dead.

And the loveliest blossom that e'er fell from Eden,

 The fairest, most fragrant in purity's wreath,

When the spring-heralds welcomed the life-giving season,

 Was slain by the frosts of the winter of death.

Ah! many to spare were our hearts better willing. 

Than the soul in whose beauty all others were blest

But "death loves a bright mark," and ever is filling

 His graves with the spirits of those we love best.

Their spirits? Not so; tis but clay lies beneath us,

 For death o'er the spirit no sceptre can sway;

And both shall unite once again to bequeath us 

The joy of reunion at some future day.

For the mortal but rests on a motherly pillow. 

While its spirit mate shines like a jewel on high;

As a star, buried low in the depths of the billow, 

Has its twin-fire sparkling aloft in the sky.

To the future, then, heart, turn for ne'er-ending gladness, 

And music-lorn soul, for the sweetness of yore.

Where the warm light of hope drys the fountain of sadness, 

And life is all spring, and the spring evermore.