Ah, well I ween the night we laid him there,
I went to watch his grave; day had been fair,
But eve came up with thunder's muttered growl,
And ever and anon the lightning's scowl
Flashed angrily upon me as I viewed
The breakers dashing on the sea beach rude.
I grew passionate amid the whirlwind's sigh,
It had no word of comfort, loud was its cry,
And deep, dark was the struggle of my soul,
As I watched the billows onward roll.
There came no ray of hope across my breast,
As I turned toward my place of wild unrest;
I looked in vain for calmness, up on high,
It was not God's time for rainbows in the sky.
I went again next eve; there was no storm,
The full moon lighted up each darkening form;
'Twas the glory of a summer's bloom,
And I went onward to my baby's tomb.
I laid fresh flowers above the cold in death,
I felt upon my cheek warm zephyr's breath,
It seemed as if an angel had swept by
Across the grass where I too longed to lie;
And I saw the glorious sweep of moonbeams
Gilding the white rocks, circling all the streams
With rays of glory; I knelt on the bank,
Watching the picture, till my lone heart sank
Down to the depths; I could have slept to death,
My wounds seemed to defy the balmy breath
Of nature to restore my peace; my hands
I stretched out o'er the sea to northern lands,
I moved so swiftly o'er the moon gilt foam,
I stood once more within my father's home,
Could almost hear the village bells ring out,
Could almost hear the merry children's shout,
Could breathe the scent of violet and rose,
Walked down the dells where the pale primrose grows.
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