Page:Poems Denver.djvu/146

THY HEART IS WITH THE DEAD.

I see a blight upon thy brow,
 Within thine eye a gloom,
Hast thou no joy in being now,
 That thou should'st miss its bloom?
From out thy spirit's inner shrine,
 A glorious light has fled;
Thou'st felt its brilliancy decline,
 Thy heart is with the dead!

O, when the spring-time wandered here
 With all her bright array,
Thou saw'st her loveliness appear,
 Thou saw'st its sure decay;
And with her light has vanish'd one,
 Whose life too quickly fled;
Death sought the goal; the victory won,
 Thy heart is with the dead!

Alas! alas! that death should bring
 A blight upon each bloom;
The dead have felt his venomed sting,
 The living feel his gloom.
With thee, with thee, life once was bright,
 Gay hopes before thee sped;
Where is the sparkle of their light?
 Thy heart is with the dead!