Verse > Anthologies > Joseph Friedlander, comp. > The Standard Book of Jewish Verse
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Joseph Friedlander, comp.  The Standard Book of Jewish Verse.  1917.
 
Baroness de Rothschild
By Emily Marion Harris
 
THOUGH life may fade, love never dies,
  And all but love, is now a dream
To her, who in her long sleep lies
  Enwrapped in flowers, and love supreme.
What, if the solemn shadows stir,        5
  To sobbing sighs and broken prayer,
Love folds its mantle over her
  And shields her, in its tender care.
 
Sadly the mystic hours of night
  Flit past, still undisturbed by these,        10
Or sudden glow of morning light
  Or waking birds, or waving trees.
She lies, who heeds not days and hours,
  The sweet, soft bird song, nor one tear
Beneath her canopy of flowers        15
  Indifferent now to joy and fear.
 
Earth’s voices touch her not; nor grieve
  Her warm and generous heart with pain,
O sorrowing mourners, we believe
  That God shall raise her up again,        20
That in some half-guessed, happier sphere,
  Some perfect world, but part confessed
To us poor mortals weeping here,
  “He giveth His beloved rest.”
 
And so Beloved, we part from you,        25
  We, clothed by you, and housed and fed,
Not hopeless, though the words are true,
  Our blessed Baroness is dead!
The poor, your monument shall raise,
  Statelier than sculptured tomb above        30
That cherished form, of love and praise
  Who loved her God; whose God is love.
 
 
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