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Stranger! a while beneath this aged tree
Rest thee, the hills beyond, and flowery meads,
Surveying; and if Nature's charms may wake
A sweet and silent transport at thine heart,...

His beauty bore no token,
No sign our gladness shook;
With tender strength unbroken
The hand of Life he took:
But the summer flowers were falling,
Falling and fading away,...

I.

Oh, for a deep-shaded spot where the shadows cool
Are hid from the rays of the glaring sun,
And the sparkling waters from a limped pool
O'er the gleaming pebbles in ripples run!


II....

Deep in the West a berry-coloured bar
Of sunset gleams; against which one tall fir
Is outlined dark; above which - courier
Of dew and dreams - burns dusk's appointed star....

Thou art sleeping, brother, sleeping
In thy lonely battle grave;
Shadows o'er the past are creeping,
Death, the reaper, still is reaping,
Years have swept, and years are sweeping...

Died at Hartford, August 4th, 1861; and his wife, Mrs. ELIZA STORRS TRUMBULL, the night after his funeral.


Death's shafts fly thick, and love a noble mark.
--And one hath fallen who bore upon his shield...

Died at Portland, Connecticut, January 1st, 1861.


I think of her unfolding prime,
Her childhood bright and fair,
The speaking eye, the earnest smile,
The dark and lustrous hair,
...

Died at Hartford, on Saturday Evening, November 15th, 1862, aged 62 years.


A sense of loss is on us. One hath gone
Whose all-pervading energy doth leave
A void and silence 'mid the haunts of men...

Died at Hartford, November, 1861.


The knot of crape upon yon stately door,
And sadness brooding o'er the sun-bright halls,
What do they signify?
Death hath been there...

Died at Hartford, August, 1859.


I saw her overlaid with many flowers,
Such as the gorgeous summer drapes in snow,
Stainless and fragrant as her memory.
...

Pastor of the Fifth Avenue Church, New York, died at the Virginia Springs, July, 1859.


The great and good. How startling is the knell
That tells he is but dust.
The echo comes...

The golden harvest-tide is here, the corn
Bows its proud tops beneath the reaper's hand.
Ripe orchards' plenteous yields enrich the land;
Bring the first fruits and offer them this morn,...

Died at New Haven, August 25th, 1861, aged 78.


I well remember him, and heard his voice
In vigorous prime, beneath the Temple-Arch,
His brow enkindling with its holy themes.
...

As a guest who may not stay
Long and sad farewells to say
Glides with smiling face away,

Of the sweetness and the zest
Of thy happy life possessed
Thou hast left us at thy best.
...

He was all sunshine; in his face
The very soul of sweetness shone;
Fairest and gentlest of his race;
None like him we can call our own.

Something there was of one that died...

No mystic charm, no mortal art,
Can bid our loved companions stay;
The bands that clasp them to our heart
Snap in death's frost and fall apart;
Like shadows fading with the day,
They pass away.
...

Because this man fulfilled his days,
Like one who walks with steadfast gaze
Averted from forbidden ways
With lures of fair, false flowerage deep,
Behold the Lord whose throne is dim...

In the midst of Life we are in Death.


What is it that has stilled the usual hurry,
Checking the eager tread of rapid feet?
Why does the business face look sad and sorry...

He was the pulse-beat of true hearts,
The love-light of fond eyes:
When such a man from earth departs,
'Tis the survivor dies.

Farewell: how should not such as thou fare well,
Though we fare ill that love thee, and that live,
And know, whate'er the days wherein we dwell
May give us, thee again they will not give?...