Publisher's Synopsis
Excerpt from A Poet of the People, And, After Sixty Years
Just now, as the slumbers of night Came oer me with peace-giving breath, The curtain, half lifted, revealed to my sight Those windows which look on the kingdom of light That borders the River of Death.
And a vision fell solemn and sweet, Bringing gleams of a morning-lit land, I saw the white shore which the pale waters beat, heard the low lull as they broke at their feet Who walk on the beautiful strand.
And I wondered why spirits should cling To their clay with a struggle and sigh, When life's purple autumn is better than spring, And the soul ?ies away like a sparrow, to sing In a climate where leaves never die.
Leona, come close to my bed, And lay your dear hand on my brow; The same touch thrilled me in days that are ?ed, And raised the lost roses of youth from the dead, Can brighten the brief moments now.
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