She sleeps—and I see through a shadowy haze, <br />Where the hopes of the past and the dreams that I cherished <br />In the sunlight of brighter and happier days, <br />As the mists of the morning, have faded and perished. <br />She sleeps—and will waken to bless me no more; <br />Her life has died out like the gleam on the river, <br />And the bliss that illumined my bosom of yore <br />Has fled from its dwelling for ever and ever. <br />I had thought in this life not to travel alone, <br />I had hoped for a mate in my joys and my sorrow— <br />But the face of my idol is colder than stone, <br />And my path will be lonely without her to-morrow. <br />I was hoping to bask in the light of her smile <br />When Fortune and Fame with their laurels had crown’d me— <br />But the fire in her eyes has been dying the while, <br />And the thorns of affliction are planted around me. <br /> <br />There are those that may vent all their grief in their tears <br />And weep till the past is away in the distance; <br />But this wreck of the dream of my sunshiny years <br />Will hang like a cloud o’er the rest of existence. <br />In the depth of my soul she shall ever remain; <br />My thoughts, like the angels, shall hover about her; <br />For our hearts have been reft and divided in pain <br />And what is this world to be left in without her?<br /><br />Henry Kendall<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bereaved-one/
