Thursday, March 10, 2005

My Brothers Grave
I've breathed no sigh , I've shed no tear,Where brother takes his rest
I've never knelt upon the sod That lies above his breast.
He sleeps afar from childhood home'mid stranger graves alone;
And those who pass that lonely mound,repeat the word:Unknown.
Unknown to them, the parents' hopes That centered once in him;
Unknown to them this sisters Love, Not death itself can dim.
Oh could we but have closed his eyes Received his parting breath,
And heard him speak one kind good-bye, Before he slept in death.
It would have been a pleasure sad,To treasure up the scene-
A pinful lesson frought with good, For memory's hand to glean.
We cannot place one flowery wreath,Embalmed in sorrows tear,
To breath its last sweet fragrance out, Above the lost and dear.
Yet will the moonlight soft, and pure, His couch with beauty lave
And angels from their starry homes' Will watch my brothers grave.