The Darkness of the Grave

The darkness of the grave hath bound him, 
A shroud, for a cloak, is cast around him-
Night and day o'er his tomb I weep, 
But he hears me not, for he lies asleep! 
"Come back to love and life, my love!
Come back and chase my woe, 
For the sun is shining bright above, 
And the flowers are fair below."

To the lone and cheerless tomb they bore him,
And the chill cold earth they scattered o'er him;
That heavy mould, as it heap'd his bed, 
Fell on my heart like a weight of lead;
And I sung, "Come back to life, my love!
Come back and chase my woe,
For the sun is shining bright above, 
And the flowers are fair below!"

Light cannot pierce the earth above him,
The gentle light of eyes that love him — 
The sun cannot warm with its rays of gold, 
He hath come to his end like a tale that is told;
"Come back! in vain — those darken'd eyes 
This world no more shall see — 
No more for thee shall beam yon skies, 
Nor flowers be cull'd for thee!"