To... On The Death Of Her Sister Poem by Samuel Rogers

Ah! little thought she, when, with wild delight
By many a torrent's shining track she flew,
When mountain-glens and caverns full of night
O'er her young mind divine enchantment threw,

That in her veins a secret horror slept,
That her light footsteps should be heard no more,
That she should die - nor watched, alas! nor wept
By thee, unconscious of the pangs she bore.

Yet round her couch indulgent Fancy drew
The kindred forms her closing eye required.
There didst thou stand - there, with the smile she knew;
She moved her lips to bless thee, and expired.

And now to thee she comes; still, still the same
As in the hours gone unregarded by!
To thee, how changed, comes as she ever came;
Health on her cheek, and pleasure in her eye!

Nor less, less oft, as on that day appears,
When lingering, as prophetic of the truth,
By the way-side she shed her parting years -
For ever lovely in the light of Youth!