The Poetry Corner

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Margaret Walbridge,

By Lydia Howard Sigourney

Died at Saratoga, N.Y., June 2d, 1862, aged 35. WRITTEN ON HER BIRTH-DAY. This was her birth-day here, When summer's latest flowers Were kindling to their flush and prime, As if they felt how short the time In these terrestrial bowers. She hath a birth-day now No hastening night that knows, She hath a never-ending year Which feels no blight of autumn sere, Nor chill of wintry snows. She hath no pain or fear, But by her Saviour's side Expansion finds for every power; And knowledge her angelic dower An ever-flowing tide. They sorrow, who were called From her sweet smile to part, Who wore her love-links fondly twined Like woven threads of gold refined Around their inmost heart. Tears are upon the cheeks Of little ones this day, God of the motherless,--whose eye Notes even the ravens when they cry Wipe Thou their tears away: Oh, comfort all who grieve Beside the sacred urn,-- For brief our space to wail or sigh, Like grass we fade, like dreams we fly, And rest with those we mourn.