Treasure Island

Charles Harpur

(23 January 1813 – 10 June 1868 / Windsor, New South Wales)

A Lament


Flowers in their freshness are flushing the earth,
And the voice-peopled forest is loud in its mirth,
And streams in their fulness are laughing at dearth—
Yet my bosom is aching.
There’s shadow on all things—the shadow of woe—
It falls from my spirit wherever I go,
As from a dark cloud drifting heavy and slow,
For my spirit is weary.

Ah! what can be flowers in their gladness to me,
Or the voices that people the green forest tree,
Or the full joy of streams—since my soul sighs, ah me!
O’er the grave of my Mary.

Under the glad face of nature, her face
Hath carried down with it all beauty and grace;
Pale is it there in that dark silent place—
Mary! oh Mary!

Children are by me—her children; oh God!
To see where their feet have unwittingly trod,
Tiny tracks in the loam of the new broken sod
Betwixt them and their mother!

Betwixt them and the true one who loved us in truth,
Who bore them, and died ’mid the hopes of her youth!
Who would live in a world where nor anguish nor ruth
May avail the bereaved ones.

Yet must I live, lest her spirit should say,
Meeting mine in its flight from this vesture of clay,
“Where are our little ones? Where do they stay?
And why did you leave them?”

If for them only, then, so must it be,
See, I remain with them, Mary! but see
How lonely we stand in a world without thee!
Mary! oh Mary!

I live, but death’s shadow is over me cast;
And even when wearied woe sleepeth at last,
Some dream of the dead, sighing out of the past,
Is alive in the darkness!

Could I but weep, it were comfort, though brief;
But the fountain of tears by the fire of my grief
Hath been dried to its dregs, and can shed no relief
On the thirst of my eyelids.

As music that wasteth away on the blast,
As the last ray by the sunken sun cast,
All my heart’s gladness hath died in the past,—
Mary! oh Mary!



Submitted: Thursday, January 01, 2004

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read poems about / on: children, dark, grief, lonely, music, nature, tree, truth, mother, green, dream, fire, beauty, joy, world, people, death, sun, flower, hope

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (A Lament by Charles Harpur )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. She Knew it was Irrational, Jacqueline Nash
  2. .....? ...? ..... Traveling To Meet A Mi.., Is It Poetry
  3. pass the offering plate, Mandolyn ...
  4. If Your Reflection Could Kill, Russell Nero
  5. The blues, blaz zigon
  6. Feminine Beauty, chanchal gupta
  7. Alone again, MOHAMMAD SKATI
  8. [Challenge] Entrees for September (Disqu.., Brian Johnston
  9. Indulgences, Jayatissa Liyanage
  10. From The Balcony, Heather Burns

Poem of the Day

poet Edmund Spenser

My love is like to ice, and I to fire:
How comes it then that this her cold so great
Is not dissolved through my so hot desire,
But harder grows the more I her entreat?
...... Read complete »

   

Trending Poems

  1. The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
  2. Dreams, Langston Hughes
  3. Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
  4. Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
  5. If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
  6. No Man Is An Island, John Donne
  7. If, Rudyard Kipling
  8. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
  9. Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
  10. Alone, Edgar Allan Poe

Trending Poets

[Hata Bildir]