AND thou art gone, Grace Aguilar, | |
| The “Darling” of the race; | |
| Child of the “hated,” thou wert one | |
| E’en any sphere to grace; | |
| And O, like her, proud Hebrew maid, | 5 |
| Thou didst awake a cry, | |
| Pure as the northern peasant was, | |
| Is chronicled on high. | |
| |
| For though destruction’s bosom swept | |
| Thy children o’er the earth, | 10 |
| They yet shall worship in the land | |
| Which gave their fathers birth; | |
| And Zion’s song shall yet be deemed | |
| Acceptable to God, | |
| And Zion’s maidens sweetly dance | 15 |
| On Jordan’s hallow’d sod. | |
| |
| And, lovely one, like Wilberforce, | |
| Thou scarce didst live to see | |
| Thy prayer fulfill’d, the fact’ry child | |
| From slavery set free. | 20 |
| Like “Darling” thou didst raise the cry, | |
| The helpless heard thy voice, | |
| And hoping still, thou help’dst them on, | |
| And bade their souls rejoice. | |
| |
| I mourn for thee, my sister friend, | 25 |
| As kindred in that art | |
| Which is Divine—a holy tie | |
| No human pow’r can part. | |
| When first my muse essay’d to sing, | |
| ’Neath Wilson’s fostering care, | 30 |
| Thou, too didst grace the glowing page, | |
| And Youatt’s name was there. | |
| |
| We knew no creed, save that which bound | |
| Our souls in ties as strong | |
| As revelation e’er proclaimed | 35 |
| Or grac’d the Psalmist’s song; | |
| Onward we went, one hope in view, | |
| Both pilgrims on the road, | |
| Towards the “everlasting towers,” | |
| “The city of our God.” | 40 |
| |
| Peace to thine ashes! May there rise | |
| From out thine ashes now, | |
| A genius of thy race, as bright, | |
| As purely bright as thou. | |
| And when our earthly race is o’er, | 45 |
| O may we meet above, | |
| And join the bright-robed heav’nly throng | |
| Who sing that “God is Love.” | |
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