Lament of Anastasius

It was but yesterday, my love, thy little heart beat high, And I had scorned the warning voice that told me thou must die; I saw thee move with active bound, with spirits light and free, And infant grace and beauty gave their glorious charm to thee. Upon the dewy field I saw thine early footsteps fly, Unfettered as the matin bird that cleaves the radiant sky; And often as the sunrise gale blew back thy shining hair, Thy cheek displayed the red-rose tinge that health had painted there. Then, withered as my heart had been, I could not but rejoice To hear upon the morning wind the music of thy voice, Now echoing in the careless laugh, now melting down to tears: ’T was like the sounds I used to hear in old and happier years. Thanks for that memory to thee, my lovely little boy! ’T is all remains of former bliss that care cannot destroy; I listened, as the mariner suspends the outbound oar To taste the farewell gale that blows from off his native shore. I loved thee, and my heart was blessed; but ere the day was spent, I saw thy light and graceful form in drooping illness bent, And shuddered as I cast a look upon the fainting head, For all the glow of health was gone, and life was almost fled. One glance upon thy marble brow made known that hope was vain; I knew the swiftly wasting lamp would never light again; Thy cheek was pale, thy snow-white lips were gently thrown apart, And life in every passing breath seemed gushing from the heart. And, when I could not keep the tear from gathering in my eye, Thy little hand pressed gently mine in token of reply; To ask one more exchange of love thy look was upward cast, And in that long and burning kiss thy happy spirit passed. I trusted I should not have lived to bid farewell to thee, And nature in my heart declares it ought not so to be; I hoped that thou within the grave my weary head should lay, And live beloved, when I was gone, for many a happy day. With trembling hand I vainly tried thy dying eyes to close, And how I envied in that hour thy calm and deep repose! For I was left alone on earth, with pain and grief opprest; And thou wert with the sainted, where the weary are at rest. Yes! I am left alone on earth; but I will not repine Because a spirit loved so well is earlier blessed than mine: My fate may darken as it will, I shall not much deplore, Since thou art where the ills of life can never reach thee more.