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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472456" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>In Memory Of Charles Wentworth Upham, Jr.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">HE was all sunshine; in his face<br>The very soul of sweetness shone;<br>Fairest and gentlest of his race;<br>None like him we can call our own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Something there was of one that died<br>In her fresh spring-time long ago,<br>Our first dear Mary, angel-eyed,<br>Whose smile it was a bliss to know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Something of her whose love imparts<br>Such radiance to her day's decline,<br>We feel its twilight in our hearts<br>Bright as the earliest morning-shine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet richer strains our eye could trace<br>That made our plainer mould more fair,<br>That curved the lip with happier grace,<br>That waved the soft and silken hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Dust unto dust! the lips are still<br>That only spoke to cheer and bless;<br>The folded hands lie white and chill<br>Unclasped from sorrow's last caress.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Leave him in peace; he will not heed<br>These idle tears we vainly pour,<br>Give back to earth the fading weed<br>Of mortal shape his spirit wore.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Shall I not weep my heartstrings torn,<br>My flower of love that falls half blown,<br>My youth uncrowned, my life forlorn,<br>A thorny path to walk alone?'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O Mary! one who bore thy name,<br>Whose Friend and Master was divine,<br>Sat waiting silent till He came,<br>Bowed down in speechless grief like thine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Where have ye laid him?' 'Come,' they say,<br>Pointing to where the loved one slept;<br>Weeping, the sister led the way,--<br>And, seeing Mary, 'Jesus wept.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He weeps with thee, with all that mourn,<br>And He shall wipe thy streaming eyes<br>Who knew all sorrows, woman-born,--<br>Trust in his word; thy dead shall rise!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Oliver+Wendell+Holmes">Oliver Wendell Holmes</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=472456" data-title="In Memory Of Charles Wentworth Upham, Jr. de Oliver Wendell Holmes" data-description="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
In her fresh spring-time long ago,
Our first dear Mary, angel-eyed,
Whose..."></div>
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