Epitaph

Poem By Arthur Henry Adams

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.

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