Crishammer, Laura (fl. 1850-) Lines on the Death of a Friend

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Thoughts suggested by the death of cousin Angeline Harwood-

It is the hour of twilight,
On each reclining plain,
Departing eve is blushing
On hill and distant main,
The gentle breeze is floating,
The whispering trees among,
To woo its breath, the willow
Has flowing tresses flung.

Sweet silence now is brooding,
The fading landscape o'er
Save one sad, mournful cadence,
Which speaks a friend's no more:
A loved one, bright with beauty,
In earth's cold, darksome breast,
Her weary task now ended,
Has lain her down to rest.

And Near, [struck: by] her couch of sorrow,
Have weeping friends stood by:
Have heard her parting accents
And seen her droop and die.
As the bright star of morning
Which fades not in the west,

[2]
But melts away in heaven
They say her pass to rest.

Now gush forth floods of weeping,
And [send] our hearts with grief.
That such a flower has withered
Her stay on Earth so brief.
But she in realms celestial,
Arrayed in robes of light,
With seraph saints and angels,
In songs of joy unites.

Along Life's gentle river
Whose waters ceaseless flow,
O'er plains with fragrance, blooming
She wanders, happy now.
Then we'll not fondly languish
Nor yield to vain regret;
For only's broke the casket.
Its gem is sparkling yet.-