The Poetical Works of Mrs Hemans

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By the chanted psalm that fills Reverently the ancient hills, 1 Learn, that from his harvests done. Peasants bear a brother on To his last repose.
By the pall of snowy white Through the yew-trees gleaming bright ; By the garland on the bier, Weep ! a maiden claims thy tear Broken' is the rose!
Which is the tenderest rite of all ? Buried virgin's coronal, Requiem o'er the monarch's head, Farewell gun for warrior dead, Herdsman's funeral hymn ?
Tells not each of human woe ? Each of hope and stren
...gth brought low? Number each with holy things. If one chastening thought it brings Ere life's day grow dim I THE HEBREW MOTHER.
THE rose was in rich bloom on Sharon's plain. When a young mother, with her first-born, thence Went up to Zion ; for the boy was vowed Unto the Temple service. By the hand She led him, and her silent soul, the while, Oft as the dewy laughter of his eye Met her sweet serious glance, rejoiced to think That aught so pure, so beautiful was hers, To bring before her God. So passed they on O'er Judah's hills ; and wheresoe'er the leaves Of the broad sycamore made sounds at noon, Like lulling rain-drops, or the olive boughs, With their cool dimness, crossed the sultry blue Of Syria's heaven, she paused, that he might rest; Yet from her own meek eyelids chased the sleep That weighed their dark fringe down, to sit and watch The crimson deepening o'er his cheek's repose.


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