Mary Weston Fordham

(1845-1905 / the United States)

Mrs. E. Cohrs Brown - Poem by Mary Weston Fordham

Tread not the earth where lies her youthful form,
Grow violets, sweet violets, above that cherished
Bid zephyrs softly whisper in accents sweet and low,
Not dead, not lost, but only gone a little while before.
So, I, though bowed in anguish, yield her spirit to its
And meekly clasp the smiting hand, and kiss the
chast'ning rod;
May I, when time is over, greet thee on the other
To live and love for aye and aye, where partings are
no more.

Comments about Mrs. E. Cohrs Brown by Mary Weston Fordham

  • Susan Williams (10/9/2015 11:00:00 PM)

    Such an abiding faith even in sorrow (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Tuesday, September 14, 2010

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