Page:Poems Holley.djvu/210

GONE BEFORE.

  Fold the hands
Gently o'er the silent heart,
Soft palms nevermore to part
  From their quiet rest;
Ne'er to cling to broken reeds,
Plucking flowers to find them weeds;
Ne'er to raise in anguished prayer,
Nor to clasp in wild despair
O'er a heart that bleeds;
Softly o'er the peaceful breast,
  Fold the hands.

  Close the eyes;
Loving eyes of softest blue,
Tender eyes of Heaven's own hue,
  Close in sleep.
Sleep thee, darling, through the night,
Dreaming fancies blest and bright,
Visions bathed in heavenly day,
Ne'er to fade and melt away
In the morning light;
Dear eyes, nevermore to weep,
  Close in sleep.