|THE AFRO-AMERICAN WOMAN IN VERSE.|
|GONE TO GOD.|
MRS. F.E.W. HARPER.
Finished now the weary throbbing,
Of a bosom calmed to rest;
Laid aside the heavy sorrows,
That for years upon it prest.
All the thirst for pure affection,
All the hunger of the heart,
All the vain and tearful cryings,
All forever now depart.
Clasp the pale and faded fingers,
O'er the cold and lifeless form;
They shall never shrink and shiver,
Homeless in the dark and storm.
Press the death-weights calmly, gently,
O'er the eyelids in their sleep;
Tears shall never tremble from them,
They shall never wake to weep.
Close the silent lips together,
Lips once parted with a sigh;
Through their sealèd moveless portals,
Ne'er shall float a bitter cry.
Bring no bright and blooming flowers,
Let no mournful tears be shed,
Funeral flowers, tears of sorrow,
They are for the cherished dead.
She has been a lonely wanderer,
Drifting on the world's highway;
Grasping with her woman's nature
Feeble reeds to be her stay.
God is witness to the anguish
Of a heart that's all alone;96Floating blindly on life's current,
Only bound unto His throne.
But o'er such Death's solemn angel
Broodeth with a sheltering wing;
Till the helpless hands, grown weary,
Cease around earth's toys to cling.
Then kind hands will clasp them gently,
On the still and aching breast;
Softly treading by they'll whisper
Of the lone one gone to rest.