Mary Dana Shindler

“ Gently, gently, beating heart!
Love not earthly things too well;
Those who love may quickly part,
Sorrow’s waves too soon may swell.
Softly, softly, boding fear!
Tell me not of fleeting bliss;
Ever would I linger here,
With a joy so pure as this.
Shame thee, shame thee, earthly love!
Chain not thus my spirit here;
Earth must change, and joy must prove
Sure precursor of despair.
Cheer thee, cheer thee, child of God!
Trust in Heaven, and all is well;
Come the smile, or fall the rod,
Cheer thee, cheer thee, all is well! [Pg 19]
The pensive song thus ended, all was still ”

“ In watching by the suff’rer’s couch, through many a weary night,
And now in burying their dead—their darling, out of sight.
“Ashes to ashes—dust to dust”—with mournful hollow sound
The clods of earth are falling on that coffin under ground;
Nay, shudder not, nor turn away, with sudden heart-despair!
Mother! ’tis but his lifeless dust, his spirit is not there.
Yes, smile again that same sad smile, and raise thy languid eyes,
Again—O, mourner! dost thou see thy darling in the skies?
In silence and in thoughtfulness, away the mourners move;
Deserted is that peaceful spot, within a shady grove. ”

“ To settle to a smile;
And let thy cheerful fellowship
My lonely heart beguile.
I’ll strive with all my heart, to bless
Each sufferer I see;
The widow and the fatherless
Shall learn to pray for me.
I’ll ne’er forget how loved ones watch
For every smile or tear;
Nor how their eager faces catch
The look my features wear. [Pg 284]
They shall not hear my grief express’d,
They shall not see me weep;
But every sorrow in my breast
Shall there lie, buried deep.
This is my task, and I will still
Bear on my broken heart;
If God will give me strength awhile,
I’ll nobly do my part. ”

“ IX.
Alone, yet not alone—for cold and dead,
A manly form lies stretch’d upon its bier
And she whose hand supports her weary head,
Is gazing on her husband’s features there.
How peaceful is the smile those features wear!
One hand is laid in his, so icy cold,
The other hidden by her flowing hair;
And statue-like she sits, while scenes untold
Rush on her mental view, and glorious things unfold. X.
No deep dejection sits upon her brow,
Though from her fond embrace her love has fled;
How can her heart indulge in sadness now,
When glory crowns her sainted husband’s head? ”

“ No sorrow’s anniversary to dread!
Come—blissful hour! when all have pass’d away—
Those “former things” that darken’d life’s sad day, [Pg 200]
And safely housed shall all my loved ones be,
In ever brightening immortality!
Yes! there’s a land where sorrows shall be o’er,
And I shall see the gath’ring cloud no more;
I know the land—I languish to be there:
Come, Death! to that bright world my spirit bear!
There shall be no more crying! Joyful day!
When God’s own hand all tears shall wipe away,
And while eternity’s long ages roll,
Sweet peace shall settle on my ransom’d soul. ”

“ While on thy mother earth reclines thy head!
All soft and peaceful may thy slumbers be,
Till the last trump shall sound, when time has fled,
To wake the sleeping pulses of the silent dead! XXII.
I almost envy thee, my sainted love,
Enjoying Heaven’s sweet society!
O, that I had the pinions of a dove!
How would my eager spirit fly to thee,
And joyful share thy blest eternity!
Thou, who hast seen the Savior as he is,
Art thou not filled with perfect ecstasy?
Explain’d are all thy life’s dark mysteries,
Thy fears, thy woes, thy pains, thy heart’s deep agonies. XXIII.
Thou art at rest, my husband! ”

“ There shall be no more sorrow! I shall feel
No chilling sadness o’er my spirit steal;
And there shall be no aching heart in Heaven;
No mem’ry’s tear; no trespass unforgiven;
No restless cares fresh gath’ring every hour;
No clouds o’er life’s dark labyrinth to lower;
No longing thirst for life’s immortal stream;
No disappointment; no deceitful dream;
No heart of adamant to vex me there;
No secret sins to fill me with despair;
No viper gliding round my place of rest,
To fix its deadly fangs within my breast;
No midnight watchings, paling friendship’s cheek ”

“ But the Healer was there, pouring balm on her heart,
And wiping the tears from her eyes,
And he strengthened the chain he had broken in twain,
And fasten’d it firm to the skies!
There had whisper’d a voice—twas the voice of her God,
“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”
I saw the young mother in tenderness bend
O’er the couch of her slumbering boy,
And she kissed the soft lips as they murmur’d her name,
While the dreamer lay smiling in joy. ”

“ In the dark tomb!
It is a child who dies—
His lovely deep blue eyes
Are fixed in death;
Why should the sweet boy die?
Why should such beauty lie
The sod beneath? [Pg 40]
’Tis ever, ever thus!
The loveliest blossoms we can find,
With numerous tender cords we bind,
And fasten firmly to the heart;
But Death comes in to play his part,
And cuts the fibres loose!
Pale as a tenant of the tomb,
Who comes into that dying room,
Supported by his friend?
Why steals a tear down every face?
Why do all move to give him place?
Why springs the mother to his side? ”

“ Loosen thine arms, fond mother,
And let thy darling go!
Thou wouldst not hold him down to earth,
Amid these floods of woe.
O, clasp him not so fondly
Close to thy trembling breast;
It is a spot he loves—and yet
’Tis not a place of rest.
There is no love nor beauty
Can charm disease away;
The spoiler comes, and rude his touch,
Be long or short his stay.
Soft is thy baby’s pillow
Upon thy tender breast;
Oft have its gentle heavings lull’d
Thy weary boy to rest. [Pg 203]
But now in mortal anguish,
What spot can ease his pain?
No more he’ll nestle in thine arms,
Or smile on thee again! ”

“ I’ve thought it was as cherubs look, that sweet angelic face;
So innocent, so passing fair, so full of love and bliss;
It brings a thought of Heaven to earth, sweet childhood’s happiness!
O, types of Heaven they oft may see, whose thoughts to Heaven ascend,
When things all lovely to behold their daily steps attend.
Why lies that babe so silent there, in monumental rest,
Why moves he not from hour to hour, nor heaves his gentle breast?
Why does the mother place her hand upon his marble cheek,
Then move her bloodless, quiv’ring lips, though none can hear her speak? ”

“ But softer grows the heart whose wounds are heal’d
By Gilead’s balm, sweet cure from Heaven reveal’d.
If purest joys must from affliction spring,
Then welcome grief, and lonely sorrowing!
A few brief years at most shall pass, before
Sorrow shall cease, and grief shall be no more.
I would not always live this dying life,
Where joys and sorrows keep perpetual strife;
But if I must a toil-worn pilgrim be,
O, Savior! give me tears—then rest with thee! ”

“ My busy thoughts are all I own,
Thoughts often sad as parting sighs,
When long cemented union dies;
But oft’ner sweet as greeting tears,
When separations end with years; [Pg 127]
When nought the union shall destroy,
And tears alone can speak the joy.
In such a meeting does my heart
By expectation bear a part,
When, free from sin, and earth’s alloy,
I’ll greet my husband and my boy.
But meetings in that world of bliss,
Are never tearful as in this;
For every tear is wiped away,
And every eye beams bright as day.
I know my loved ones I shall see,
With arms outstretch’d to welcome me ”

“ Not all the joys of wedded bliss
One moment can compare with this;
Though kindling eyes with rapture sweet,
In beaming glances often meet,
And burning lips with ardor tell
How love and joy together dwell.
Not all the thrilling happiness
A mother’s heart alone can bless,
When, all her pain and anguish done,
Her eye beholds her first born son,
And sees the father standing by,
With smiles of love, and kindling eye, [Pg 179] ”

“ She looks on high! Her lips in prayer do move!
She clasps her hands as if in agony!
One pleading look she sends to Heaven above,
Then thus with falt’ring voice says to her dying love, XXV.
“O, canst thou not, my husband! speak to me?
O, shall I hear that well known voice no more?
My heart will break. O, God! I cry to thee,
And in this awful hour thine aid implore.
Deep calleth unto deep;—the waves do roar,
Thy waves and billows, rushing o’er my head!
God of all mercy! in this trying hour,
Have pity on the work thy hands have made;
May everlasting arms be underneath me spread. ”

“ Her arms are tightly clasp’d around her neck,
As though she were her mother; and her head
Has sunk upon that sympathizing breast;
And when at length she raises it again,
There beams a tranquil smile upon her face,
Like the bright rainbow shining after rain!
How sweet is sympathy! Each heart doth know
Its own deep bitterness; but many weigh
The grief of others in false balances,
And blame them where they ought to sympathize. ”

“ I never felt as now I feel,
The dark world’s vanity;
I never loved as now I love,
The Heaven I hope to see.
How calmly can I travel on,
While joys and comforts die;
And smile to see my bosom friends
In death’s embraces lie.
’Tis well with them—’tis well with me—
Why should I shed one tear?
My loved ones now are safe at home,
And I shall soon be there.
Yes—even here, in this dark world,
I’ve enter’d into rest;
I’ve flown into my Savior’s arms,
He bears me on his breast!
Charleston, November 15, 1840.
[Pg 227]
THE JOY OF SOLITUDE.
Break not, my solitary heart! ”

“ On lips unconscious of the bliss,
And, full of gladness unexpress’d,
Close clasps him to her swelling breast,
Where springs a fountain rich and free—
The food of helpless infancy!
These are not lasting. I can say,
How joys like these may pass away;
And leave, where all was love and light,
An aching heart—a gloomy night—
A memory of pleasures gone—
A sorrow to be left alone.
But often in the darkest night
Springs up a pure and brilliant light ”

“ Thou mak’st the heart of gentle woman strong!
All-cheering Faith! thou hast a magic power
To win the soul away from haggard grief!
On the pure surface of the calm blue sky,
Thou paintest Heaven’s glories with a touch
Surpassing mortal genius, and with art
Most wonderful, dost lure the tearful eye
Away from the attractions of the tomb,
Where earthly hopes and joys lie sepulchred.
What sweet amazement seizes on the soul,
When these celestial visions greet the eye! ”

“ I love with all my heart, a little child,
Pure, fresh, and beauteous in its early bloom—
A blossom soon to shed its fragrance far,
Or scatter baleful poison all around.
I love the aged man, whose hoary hair
Lies thinly scatter’d o’er his temples bare;
I love to see him cheerfully descend [Pg 276]
The hill of life. The winter of his days
A prelude is to one eternal spring.
And I love sorrow too; it teaches me
The lessons I shall ne’er forget. It breaks
My heart, that love divine may enter in,
And, while it heals the breach, may there abide. ”

“ But know the time-worn heart may be
By pangs in this world riven,
Keener than theirs, who yield, like me,
An angel thus to Heaven.” Mrs. Hemans.
There was silence deep and deathlike, as the silence of the tomb,
Save when a startling sigh was heard, in that funereal room,
Where lay a lovely cherub boy, smiling as if in sleep;
It was the smile that comes with death, and whispers, “Do not weep,
When those you love are snatch’d away from earth and all its cares;”
O, is it strange a smile should be the last farewell to tears? ”

“ Mother! thy daughter weeps no more,
For all her tears are dried away;
Exhaled like dew-drops from the rose,
Beneath the sun’s bright ray!
Hast thou not seen how cruel pain
Could steal the roses from her cheek,
And wring the moisture from her brow,
And leave her faint and weak?
Mother! thy daughter is in Heaven,
And pain can never reach her there,
No sickness comes to those who breathe
That pure delightful air!
Look up, with faith’s observant eye,
And see thine angel daughter now! ”

“ O, not with tears and hearts disconsolate
Art thou lamented! While we mourn our loss,
’Tis joy on thy great bliss to meditate;
And thus we learn to count as only dross,
All other objects save our dear Redeemer’s cross. XX.
That cross, my sister! was thy constant theme;
Earth’s evanescent pleasures could not lure
Thy heart from him who had thy love supreme.
No, dearest! rather would that heart endure
The utmost strength of persecution’s power,
Than e’er deny the friend who died for thee!
But now, dear angel! now thou art secure
From sorrow, and from sin’s dark tyranny! ”

“ The heart’s deep feelings to my sounding lyre!
’Tis vain—’tis vain—such feelings must retire
From mortal view! Again I draw the veil
Over these parents’ hearts. It would require
A more than mortal tongue to tell the tale
Of all their high wrought feelings—mortal speech would fail. [Pg 172] XLII.
’Tis sad when those we love cannot be near
Our dying bed; and yet it saves much pain.
The last farewell that falls upon the ear—
The tears that mourners seek to hide, in vain—
The bursting sobs they cannot quite restrain—
These wring the heart. ”

“ And why, my heart, this anxious, gloomy fear?
If my domestic bliss could ever last,
O, surely, I should find my heaven here!
But something tells me there is sorrow near;
Some sad foreboding weighs my spirit down;
And, ere I know it, fast th’ unbidden tear
Springs to my eye. Ev’n nature seems to frown;
The moon has hid herself—the chill night breezes moan. XVII.
O, why does my imagination thus
Run riot in a world of fancied woes? ”

“ They’ve only sooner reach’d their blissful rest!
’Tis sweet to end a wearisome sojourn,
And reach a wish’d-for home—and they are blest
Whose friends are safely housed where nothing can molest. XII.
In those delightful realms of perfect bliss,
The raptured spirit finds an endless home;
And is it well to break your hearts for this?
O, could to earth the sainted spirit come,
’Twould chide the mourner weeping o’er the tomb
As though the soul were chained in prison there!
’Twould bid him lay aside his look of gloom,
And in its place the smile of triumph wear ”