In Memoriam. - Mrs. Georgiana Ives Comstock, Poem Rhyme Scheme

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Died at Hartford April th aged	A
	-
	-
I saw a brilliant bridal	B
All that cheers	C
And charms the leaping heart of youth was there	D
And she the central object of the group	E
The cherished song bird of her father's house	F
Array'd in beauty was the loved of all	G
Would I could tell you what a world of flowers	H
Were concentrated there how they o'erflow'd	A
In wreaths and clusters how they climb'd and swept	A
From vase to ceiling with their gay festoons	H
Whispering each other in their mystic lore	I
Of fragrance and consulting how to swell	J
As best they might the tide of happiness	H
	-
A few brief moons departed and I sought	A
The same abode There was a gather'd throng	K
Beyond the threshold stone A few white flowers	H
Crept o'er a bosom and a gentle hand	A
That clasp'd them not A holy hymn awoke	L
In plaintive melody but she who breath'd	A
The very soul of music from her birth	M
Lay there with close seal'd lips	H
And the same voice	H
That in the flushing of the autumnal rose	H
Gladly pronounced the irrevocable words	H
What God hath join'd together let no man	N
Asunder put now in the chasten'd tones	H
Of deep humility and tenderness	H
Strove from the armory of Heaven to gird	A
The hearts that freshly bled	A
	-
At close of day	A
In the lone sadden'd hour of musing thought	A
I seem'd to view a scene where side by side	A
Bridals and burials gleam'd the smile and tear	D
Anguish and joy peace in her heavenly vest	A
And brazen throated war and heard a cry	O
Such is man's life below	P
I would have wept	A
Save that a symphony of harps unseen	Q
Broke from a hovering cloud Lo we are they	A
Who from earth's tribulation rose and found	A
Our robes made white Henceforth we grieve no more	I
	-
List List She mingleth in that raptur'd strain	R
Who said so sweetly to her spirit's guide	A
That the dear Lord whom she had early serv'd	A
Stood near in her extremity and gave	S
Her soul full willingness to leave a world	A
All bright with beauty and requited love	T
	-
And so Death lost his victory tho' he snatched	A
The unwither'd garland out of Hymen's hand	A
And wound it in cold mockery round the tomb	U

Lydia Howard Sigourney

In Memoriam. - Mrs. Georgiana Ives Comstock, Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

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