Abram Joseph Ryan Poems

Do we weep for the heroes who died for us,
Who living were true and tried for us,
And dying sleep side by side for us;
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Ah! days so dark with death's eclipse!
Woe are we! woe are we!
And the nights are ages long!
From breaking hearts, thro' pallid lips
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Out of the shadows of sadness,
Into the sunshine of gladness,
Into the light of the blest;
Out of a land very dreary,
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I love my mother, the wildwood,
I sleep upon her breast;
A day or two of childhood,
And then I sink to rest.
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Waileth a woman, 'O my God!'
A breaking heart in a broken breath,
A hopeless cry o'er her heart-hope's death!
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Gone! and they return no more,
But they leave a light in the heart;
The murmur of waves that kiss a shore
Will never, I know, depart.
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Silently -- shadowly -- some lives go,
And the sound of their voices is all unheard;
Or, if heard at all, 'tis as faint as the flow
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Be you near, or be you far,
Let my blessing, like a star,
Shine upon you everywhere!
And in each lone evening hour,
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Brief while they last,
Long when they are gone;
They catch from the past
A light to still live on.
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Two little children played among the flowers,
Their mothers were of kin, tho' far apart;
The children's ages were the very same
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