Footnotes

My sister, JANE KEITH PALMER, died in New York, May 27th, 1837, aged 22 years.

“Why make ye this ado, and weep? The damsel is not dead, but sleepeth.”--Mark v. 39.

Complaint of Job.

TO A SISTER, IN THE REPOSE OF DEATH.

Sleep on, sweet sister! holy joy Sits on thy placid brow; No sudden anguish can destroy Thy peaceful slumbers now.

Sleep on--sleep on--and I will pray That I may rest like thee, When comes the pris’ner’s ransom day, My life’s great jubilee!

Sleep on! ’tis long since thou hast known A sweet release from pain; Dear angel, bowing near the throne! Thou canst not weep again!

Sleep on--sleep on--thy work is done! I must not mourn for thee! I wish thee joy, thou ransom’d one! Thou hast thy liberty!

NEW YORK, May 24, 1837.

TO MY ONLY SISTER.

My last--my only one! O, leave me not alone-- Bereft of all! May we together go, That those we leave below May o’er us lightly throw One funeral pall!

I would not from thee part, Thou of the gentle heart, And dove-like mien! Go not, my only one! As those we loved have gone; Who, passing gently on, No more are seen.

Theirs is the peaceful home, And ours the lonely gloom Of parted love; We hear their evening hymn As some remember’d dream; Sweet whisp’rer does it seem Of songs above!

In fair immortal bowers Of amaranthine flowers, They sweetly dwell; Pain cannot enter there, Nor dark foreboding fear, Nor dull, corroding care, Nor sad farewell!

How many cherish’d ones, Array’d in sparkling crowns, Shall greet us there! There are our treasures laid, Earth’s love, immortal made, Shall never, never fade, But grow more fair.

Pass not away from earth, And from thy peaceful hearth, And leave me here! When thy freed spirit flies To seek its native skies, Then, too, may I arise, And enter there!

CHARLESTON, June 28, 1840.