Page:Poems Denver.djvu/134

   And yet I would not say,
   Thou hast passed too soon away
From earth—Oh, no; we never die too soon.

   'Tis sweet to think that one,
   Whom we have loved alone,
Hath found a dwelling in yon world of light;
   And dream the blessed thought
   That we are not forgot,
Even by those who are in heaven to-night.

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THE SHADOWED BROW.

I know that thy fate on earth will be sad,
 That thy spirit will bend and bow,
And thy heart in the vestments of grief be clad,
 O! thou of the shadowed brow.

I know that thy home 'mid the things of earth,
 Will be but a cheerless one;
I know that thy tone in the halls of mirth,
 Will be but a saddened tone.

For written distinctly upon thy brow,
 Is a tale of waning years;—
Perchance the strife is begun even now
 Of hopes and doubts and fears.

Of hopes that soar like birds on high,
 To bathe in the realms of light;