Epitaph

The Earth Speaks: HUSH! he drowses, drowses deep, While my quiet arms I keep Close about him in his sleep. Once he glanced at me aghast, Shuddered from my kiss, and passed— But I hold him here at last. He had frenzied thoughts of fame, Piteous strivings for a name— But I called him, and he came. Called him with the mother-call That shall on the weary fall, Whispering “Home” to all, to all. Fair white skin he looked upon; Eyes in his with passion shone; But my patient love has won. There was one he deemed to wed; But he faltered, came instead To my narrow bridal bed. Vehement his veins and wild— Now a dreaming, glad-eyed child To my kisses reconciled. Tender heart and turbulent, I and he together pent In an æon of content! Heaven holds for him no prize: Stirless, nested here he lies In his narrow Paradise. When his trump God's Angel blows, When he shudders, wakens, knows, I shall hold him close, so close! He will feel life's aching pain, Turn his lips to me, and then Sink to dreamless sleep again. So for aye my love I keep Here upon my breast asleep— Hush!…he drowses…drowses…deep.