On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age Poem by Phillis Wheatley
On The Death Of A Young Lady Of Five Years Of Age
FROM dark abodes to fair etherial light
Th' enraptur'd innocent has wing'd her flight;
On the kind bosom of eternal love
She finds unknown beatitude above.
This known, ye parents, nor her loss deplore,
She feels the iron hand of pain no more;
The dispensations of unerring grace,
Should turn your sorrows into grateful praise;
Let then no tears for her henceforward flow,
No more distress'd in our dark vale below,
Her morning sun, which rose divinely bright,
Was quickly mantled with the gloom of night;
But hear in heav'n's blest bow'rs your Nancy fair,
And learn to imitate her language there.
"Thou, Lord, whom I behold with glory crown'd,
"By what sweet name, and in what tuneful sound
"Wilt thou be prais'd? Seraphic pow'rs are faint
"Infinite love and majesty to paint.
"To thee let all their graceful voices raise,
"And saints and angels join their songs of praise."
Perfect in bliss she from her heav'nly home
Looks down, and smiling beckons you to come;
Why then, fond parents, why these fruitless groans?
Restrain your tears, and cease your plaintive moans.
Freed from a world of sin, and snares, and pain,
Why would you wish your daughter back again?
No--bow resign'd. Let hope your grief control,
And check the rising tumult of the soul.
Calm in the prosperous, and adverse day,
Adore the God who gives and takes away;
Eye him in all, his holy name revere,
Upright your actions, and your hearts sincere,
Till having sail'd through life's tempestuous sea,
And from its rocks, and boist'rous billows free,
Yourselves, safe landed on the blissful shore,
Shall join your happy babe to part no more.
Indeed there is no point in moaning for the departed soul from this temporary abode to permanent abode! The poet has wonderfully listed points to console the grieving mother advising her to seek heaven to meet her daughter to be permanently with her!
There is more here to the eye than modern dissection... With racism today even more deadly than that which she endured.. Many of her formative years..were without doubt traumatic.. and what is today known of the damage..to the mind is of course without question..learning in the manner in which she did...speaks more than just to.. the core of strength she most obviously possessed..education acquired.. and her bearing being such..that she was introduced...to those whom discerned again as much...no not even that....but more...and that manner of speech... undoubtedly but sadly...lost forever...and in such a short time...put her short life against her male counterparts...would they have over come..and still be here to be read about...let us hope so...for what crushes most...he himself keeps close... for the rest...to become the best....
whoops I guess me and Steve did not realize that your died in 1784 lol
KEVIN STRAW, reread all her poems and TRY to see and understand what she in fact meant, lecturer in English Language-and Literature. Thank you!
Freed from a world of sin, and snares, and pain, Why would you wish your daughter back again? You must believe to 'join your happy babe to part no more..'
Gorgeous poem to read! A stong topic I sorrowfully understand
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/25/2024 7:11:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I think she is wrong in her psychology. To weep for the loss of a child is normal and in the long run healthy. When people leave each other they weep, it is as simple as that. I wonder if PW wept for the loss of her two children. PW is coming close to saying that weeping for the loss of a child is against God's ordinance. To lose a child is like receiving a wound - it will heal, but you cannot help weeping for it.
Why can't you have one single good word for PW's amazing poems, each time you leave unsatisfactory comments behind, why cannot you appreciate her talent of creating poems and her own opinion upon each created poem?