Verse > Anthologies > Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. > An American Anthology, 1787–1900
Edmund Clarence Stedman, ed. (1833–1908).  An American Anthology, 1787–1900.  1900.
330. A Remembrance
By Willis Gaylord Clarke
I SEE thee still! thou art not dead,
  Though dust is mingled with thy form;
The broken sunbeam hath not shed
  The final rainbow on the storm:
In visions of the midnight deep,        5
  Thine accents through my bosom thrill
Till joy’s fond impulse bids me weep,—
  For, wrapt in thought, I see thee still!
I see thee still,—that cheek of rose,—
  Those lips with dewy fragrance wet,—        10
That forehead in serene repose,—
  Those soul-lit eyes—I see them yet!
Sweet seraph! Sure thou art not dead,
  Thou gracest still this earthly sphere;
An influence still is round me shed,        15
  Like thine,—and yet thou art not here!
Farewell, beloved! To mortal sight
  Thy vermeil cheek no more may bloom;
No more thy smiles inspire delight,
  For thou art garnered in the tomb,—        20
Rich harvest for that ruthless power
  Which hath me bound to bear his will:
Yet, as in hope’s unclouded hour,
  Throned in my heart I see thee still.


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