Göteborgsposten – 7 december 1870, sida 1

(Insändt.) Åmaranth from the South on the tomb of R. P. A. Wahlgren. Non omnis moriar. Thou, too, fond youth of looks serene, Intelligent, and grave Ilast left this bustling, busy scene For an untimely grave. I knew thee once, though long ago, Now almost ha.t-torgot; And yet, ah! what a heavy blow, To think that thou so soon shouldst go Into Eternity. Thy death-knell softened reached my ears Far from my home so dear. What recollections of past years Spent there in mirth and tears! Must we not strange emotions feel, When news from home announce That Death has pressed his mournful seal Pon taces known, that did reveal A vyouthful, ardent soul? But you, his parents! what a pain, And grief must have been yours, To see your fondling thus in vain Contend (which none endures) In struggle igainst Him, whom bitter foe To all our hopes we name, To see him with Deaths angel go, And as he parted, whisper low A last farewell to all! And thee, his mother, deeply prest With sorrow for his death I tancy at his chilled breast Long listening for the breath; AÅnd shouldst thou thus be rent in twain Tnou tender, loving heart, Should all my cares be spent in vain Thy lovely form not here remain, I hear thee growning sigh. Yet oh! be patient: lo! tis true The messenger of Death Wears, though unkind and sad his hue An amaranthine wreath. Death is not death: tis life serene In unknown regions high Where is no passion, want, nor scream Of bitter sorrow, but a scene Of holiness and peace. Alexander Wdhlm. —k— ESSER