Poems (Chitwood)/Amy

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AMY.
    O Amy!—I lost Amy!
     The blue ocean's wave
    Is rolling above thee!
     They made thee a grave,
Down 'neath the blue waters they made thee a grave;
    And fathoms and fathoms
     Above thee now roll,
    Of dark swelling waters,
     Yet I can not control
My love for sweet Amy, the light of my soul.

    Down 'neath the blue billow,
     How sweet is thy rest!
 ​    Thy white arms are cold now
     Upon thy still breast—
Those arms that around me so often were pressed.
    No flowers can I garland
     Around thy low bed;
    No tree can I plant there,
     No tear can I shed
On the white sandy tomb where my Amy is dead.

    Oh! gems are around thee,
     All priceless and bright!
    Rare wreaths of pure coral,
     And shells dyed in light,
And sea-nymphs sing dirges for thee all the night.
    O Amy! lost Amy!
     My angel, my guide!
    When in death's arms I slumber—
     Oh! not by thy side
Will my ashes repose, but long miles shall divide.

    O Amy! lost Amy!
     The light of my way!
    Thou hast gone from this earth,
     While lonely I stay;
Ah! why, ruthless Death, take dear Amy away?
    But thou wert my 1por,
     My angel, my love!
    'Twas wisdom, 'twas wisdom
     My heart to remove
From its treasure below to a treasure above!

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