Poem by Madison Julius Cawein

A Dirge

             I.

    Life has fled; she is dead,
     Sleeping in the flow'ry vale
    Where the fleeting shades are shed
     Ghost-like o'er her features pale.
    Lay her 'neath the violets wild,
    Lay her like a dreaming child
     'Neath the waving grass
     Where the shadows pass.

             II.

    Gone she has to happy rest
     With white flowers for her pillow;
    Moons look sadly on her breast
     Thro' an ever-weeping willow.
    Fold her hands, frail flakes of snow,
    Waxen as white roses blow
     Like herself so fair,
     Free from world and care.

             III.

    Twine this wreath of lilies wan
     'Round her sculptured brow so white;
    Let her rest here, white as dawn,
     Like a lily quenched in night.
    Wreath this rosebud wild and pale,
    Wreath it 'mid her fingers frail;
     On her dreamless breast
     Let it dreaming rest.

             IV.

    Gently, gently lay her down,
     Gently lay her form to sleep;
    Gently let her soul be blown
     Far away, while low we weep.
    Hush! the earth no more can harm her
    Now that choirs of angels charm her!
     Dreams of life are brief;
     Naught amendeth grief.

             V.

    Speed away! speed away!
     Angels called her here to sleep;
    Let us leave her here to stay:
     Speed away! and, speeding, weep.
    Where the roses blow and die,
    'Neath them she a rose doth lie
     Wilted in the grass
     Where the shadows pass.

1. In the Mountains
2. The Iron Cross
3. Above the Vales
4. Zero
5. Communicants

Thomas Parsons A Dirge ("Slowly tread, and gently bear")

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