Epitaph

The Earth Speaks:  
  HUSH! he drowses, drowses deep,
 While my quiet arms I keep
 Close about him in his sleep.  
  Once he glanced at me aghast,
 Shuddered from my kiss, and passed—
 But I hold him here at last.  
  He had frenzied thoughts of fame,
 Piteous strivings for a name—
 But I called him, and he came.  
  Called him with the mother-call
 That shall on the weary fall,
 Whispering “Home” to all, to all.  
  Fair white skin he looked upon;
 Eyes in his with passion shone;
 But my patient love has won.  
  There was one he deemed to wed;
 But he faltered, came instead
 To my narrow bridal bed.  
  Vehement his veins and wild—
 Now a dreaming, glad-eyed child
 To my kisses reconciled.  
  Tender heart and turbulent,
 I and he together pent
 In an æon of content!  
 
  Heaven holds for him no prize:
 Stirless, nested here he lies
 In his narrow Paradise.  
  When his trump God's Angel blows,
 When he shudders, wakens, knows,
 I shall hold him close, so close!  
  He will feel life's aching pain,
 Turn his lips to me, and then
 Sink to dreamless sleep again.  
  So for aye my love I keep
 Here upon my breast asleep—
 Hush!…he drowses…drowses…deep.