Personal Poems, Complete

LINES ON THE DEATH OF S. OLIVER TORREY,

SECRETARY OF THE BOSTON YOUNG MEN'S ANTI-SLAVERY SOCIETY.

     Gone before us, O our brother,
     To the spirit-land!
     Vainly look we for another
     In thy place to stand.
     Who shall offer youth and beauty
     On the wasting shrine
     Of a stern and lofty duty,
     With a faith like thine?

     Oh, thy gentle smile of greeting
     Who again shall see?
     Who amidst the solemn meeting
     Gaze again on thee?
     Who when peril gathers o'er us,
     Wear so calm a brow?
     Who, with evil men before us,
     So serene as thou?

     Early hath the spoiler found thee,
     Brother of our love!
     Autumn's faded earth around thee,
     And its storms above!
     Evermore that turf lie lightly,
     And, with future showers,
     O'er thy slumbers fresh and brightly
     Blow the summer flowers

     In the locks thy forehead gracing,
     Not a silvery streak;
     Nor a line of sorrow's tracing
     On thy fair young cheek;
     Eyes of light and lips of roses,
     Such as Hylas wore,—
     Over all that curtain closes,
     Which shall rise no more!

     Will the vigil Love is keeping
     Round that grave of thine,
     Mournfully, like Jazer weeping
     Over Sibmah's vine;
     Will the pleasant memories, swelling
     Gentle hearts, of thee,
     In the spirit's distant dwelling
     All unheeded be?

     If the spirit ever gazes,
     From its journeyings, back;
     If the immortal ever traces
     O'er its mortal track;
     Wilt thou not, O brother, meet us
     Sometimes on our way,
     And, in hours of sadness, greet us
     As a spirit may?

     Peace be with thee, O our brother,
     In the spirit-land
     Vainly look we for another
     In thy place to stand.
     Unto Truth and Freedom giving
     All thy early powers,
     Be thy virtues with the living,
     And thy spirit ours!

     1837.