Poems (Denver)/Mary

by Mary Caroline Denver

For works with similar titles, see Mary.

MARY.

Darling Jennie, sit you down;
 Lay your books beside you;
If you play beside the spring,
 Evil may betide you.
Listen now, and I will tell
 Of your little sister,
Ere, by her sweet beauty charmed,
 Death with white lips kissed her.

Wavingly her tresses hung
 On her snowy shoulders,
With a maze of golden curls,
 Gladdening all beholders;
And her hazel eyes looked up,
 With a sudden splendor,
Flashing from the soul within,
 Radiant yet tender.

And we deemed that surely she
 Bright things would inherit,
For within her bosom dwelt
 A most noble spirit.
Gentle yet magnificent
 Was its early promise,
Till the angels from above
 Came and took her from us.

Took her on their wings of love,
 To the holy mountain,
To the tree of paradise,
 And its living fountain;
Where, secure from every ill,
 Safe with him who gave her,
Softly rests she in his arms
 Who here died to save her.

Darling, there she ever lives,
 Glorious beyond measure;
If we are good and true, we soon there,
 Shall regain our treasure;
Where we never more shall fear
 Any adversary;
In our Father's halls of light,
 Find our much-loved Mary.