Mortality's Own Friend
(Inspired by Abe Lincoln’s poem “Memory”)
Mortality's Own Friend
So sadly here, among the dead,
I live - mortality's own friend.
Recalling all that's lost, I tread
so sadly here, among the dead.
Sweet memories are as a thread
which link the living to their end.
So sadly here, among the dead,
I live - mortality's own friend.
Here is Abraham Lincoln's "Memory," which really speaks to me
(I could not get it to copy/paste from here to the box above:
Memory
by Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865)
My childhood’s home I see again,
And sadden with the view;
And still, as memory crowds my brain,
There’s pleasure in it, too.
O memory! thou midway world
’Twixt earth and paradise,
Where things decayed and loved ones lost
In dreamy shadows rise,
And, freed from all that’s earthly, vile,
Seem hallowed, pure and bright,
Like scenes in some enchanted isle
All bathed in liquid light.
As dusky mountains please the eye
When twilight chases day;
As bugle notes that, passing by,
In distance die away;
As leaving some grand waterfall,
We, lingering, list its roar --
So memory will hallow all
We’ve known but know no more.
Near twenty years have passed away
Since here I bid farewell
To woods and fields, and scenes of play,
And playmates loved so well.
The friends I left that parting day
How changed, as time has sped!
Young childhood grown, strong manhood gray;
And half of all are dead.
I hear the loved survivors tell
How nought from death could save,
Till every sound appears a knell
And every spot a grave.
I range the fields with pensive tread,
And pace the hollow rooms,
And feel (companion of the dead)
I’m living in the tombs.
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2014
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