A TRIBUTE TO THE MEMORY OF EBENEZER BAILEY, ESQ. LATE PRINCIPAL OF THE YOUNG LADIES' HIGH SCHOOL, BOSTON.
When from our side the good are snatched away,
Like morning flowers that fade at close of day,
How yearns the heart, though prostrate in its wo,
Affection's last fond tribute to bestow!
For precious then the faintest sigh will be,
Breathed to the good man's hallowed memory.
But when the thoughts of childhood's budding years,
Its blending light and shade, its hopes, its fears,
Around the heart their silent influence shed,
And mingle with our sorrow for the dead,
Though Love may rear the altar, pure, divine,
Yet gratitude bends willing at the shrine.
Like morning flowers that fade at close of day,
How yearns the heart, though prostrate in its wo,
Affection's last fond tribute to bestow!
For precious then the faintest sigh will be,
Breathed to the good man's hallowed memory.
But when the thoughts of childhood's budding years,
Its blending light and shade, its hopes, its fears,
Around the heart their silent influence shed,
And mingle with our sorrow for the dead,
Though Love may rear the altar, pure, divine,
Yet gratitude bends willing at the shrine.
Thus hath it been with thee, thou friend revered!
Whose genial aid my days of childhood cheered.
Oft have I turned me, 'mid earth's deep unrest,
To those sweet hours, my brightest and most blest.
Thou, in the days when fortune smiled on thee,
Wast a warm friend, untiring, true to me;
Nor ever hath thy watchful interest ceased,
Till death thy noble, godlike soul released.
My heart's deep debt of gratitude shall be
A lasting pillar to thy memory.
Whose genial aid my days of childhood cheered.
Oft have I turned me, 'mid earth's deep unrest,
To those sweet hours, my brightest and most blest.
Thou, in the days when fortune smiled on thee,
Wast a warm friend, untiring, true to me;
Nor ever hath thy watchful interest ceased,
Till death thy noble, godlike soul released.
My heart's deep debt of gratitude shall be
A lasting pillar to thy memory.
Friend of my youth! though feeble is the meed
I pay the princely heart, the generous deed,
Though strains more proud and eloquent than mine
The memory of thy virtues shall enshrine,
Yet none the voice of truer grief shall raise,
Or to thy goodness yield more heartfelt praise.
I pay the princely heart, the generous deed,
Though strains more proud and eloquent than mine
The memory of thy virtues shall enshrine,
Yet none the voice of truer grief shall raise,
Or to thy goodness yield more heartfelt praise.
Not I alone deplore thy hapless fate,
Thou good and gifted, generous and great!
She, that sad mourner o'er thy silent bier,
Shedding in speechless grief the frequent tear;
And they, whose names dwelt latest on thy tongue,
O'er whom a father's shield of love was flung,
Their depth of wo His might alone can scan,
Whose eye beams love, whose voice "speaks peace" to man.
Thou good and gifted, generous and great!
She, that sad mourner o'er thy silent bier,
Shedding in speechless grief the frequent tear;
And they, whose names dwelt latest on thy tongue,
O'er whom a father's shield of love was flung,
Their depth of wo His might alone can scan,
Whose eye beams love, whose voice "speaks peace" to man.
Eternal One! God of the fatherless!
Whose grace the widow's anguished heart can bless!
Bend from Thy throne of radiant light above,
And be Thy banner o'er those sad ones, love.
Rest her lone heart beneath Thy sheltering wing,
And to thy fold those lambs in safety bring.
Rest thee in peace! thou tried and trusted friend!
Shall we in hopeless grief around thee bend?
Oft have thy smiles the sorrowing heart made glad,
Thy presence cheered the doubting and the sad.
In many a heart thy monument is reared,
Whose silent thoughts record thy name revered.
Each princely deed, though done in secrecy,
Shall rise to Heaven and thy memorial be.
Thy soul shall enter its immortal rest,—
Home of the weary, guerdon of the blest.
Whose grace the widow's anguished heart can bless!
Bend from Thy throne of radiant light above,
And be Thy banner o'er those sad ones, love.
Rest her lone heart beneath Thy sheltering wing,
And to thy fold those lambs in safety bring.
Rest thee in peace! thou tried and trusted friend!
Shall we in hopeless grief around thee bend?
Oft have thy smiles the sorrowing heart made glad,
Thy presence cheered the doubting and the sad.
In many a heart thy monument is reared,
Whose silent thoughts record thy name revered.
Each princely deed, though done in secrecy,
Shall rise to Heaven and thy memorial be.
Thy soul shall enter its immortal rest,—
Home of the weary, guerdon of the blest.