Frances Anne Kemble

(27 November 1809 - 15 January 1893 / London, England)

Song. - Poem by Frances Anne Kemble

When you mournfully rivet your tear-laden eyes,
That have seen the last sunset of hope pass away,
On some bright orb that seems, through the still, sapphire skies,
In beauty and splendour to roll on its way:
Oh, remember this earth, if beheld from afar,
Appears wrapt in a halo as soft, and as bright,
As the pure silver radiance enshrining you star,
Where your spirit is eagerly soaring to-night.
And at this very midnight, perhaps, some poor heart
That is aching, or breaking, in that distant sphere;
Gazes down on this dark world, and longs to depart
From its own dismal home, to a happier one here.


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Poem Submitted: Monday, September 6, 2010



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