THE SONG OF DEATH.

Ye call me a cruel reaper,
And say that I love to mow
The fairest and sweetest blossoms,
And lay their young beauty low:
But oh! if ye knew the heart-aches
That all who live long must know,
Ye would hail me a pitying angel,
Your best friend and not your foe.
Ah, yes! I’m a pitying angel of light,
On a mission of mercy sent;
And whene’er I see a smile too bright,
And a heart too innocent,
Too tender and warm for your world of ice,
I waft them away into Paradise.
Mine aspect is pale and chilling;
Cold, cold is my marble kiss;
But it seals the awful passport
To a world of eternal bliss.
Oh! if ye but knew, ye mothers,
The misery my stroke may spare
Your babes, I should be watchword
Of hope, and not of despair!
Ah yes! I’m a pitying angel of light,
On a mission of mercy sent;
And whene’er I see a smile too bright,
And a heart too innocent,
Too tender and warm for your world of ice,
I waft them away into Paradise.
O’er a bud of the Bordighiera,*
A sweet little maid I passed,
Going, after long years of school life,
To her palmy home at last.
When all round were weeping and wailing,
I said to myself and smiled:
She’ll have holidays in Heaven,
‘Mid the immortal palms, sweet child!
Ah yes! I’m a pitying angel of light,
On a mission of mercy sent;
And whene’er I see a smile too bright,
And a heart too innocent,
Too tender and warm for this world of ice,
I waft them away into Paradise.
On a delicate orphan flower
With cold prospects, but heart of fire,
I breathed in an east wind, and bore him
Away to his heavenly Sire,
While his mother was sobbing in anguish;
I thought she should weep with joy!
For ‘tis God himself hath provided
For her poor dear fatherless boy!
Ay! To hearts like his I’m angel of light,
On a mission of mercy sent:
He hath bidden a stormy world good-night,
And now sleepeth in sweet content.
What has he to do with a world of ice?
Whose climate and home are in Paradise!
- Chambers’s Journal.
*The Bordighiera is a beautiful spot, celebrated for its palm trees, in the Riviére de Gênes.

Title:The Song of Death

Author:unknown

Publication:The Bolton Chronicle

Published in:Bolton

Date:17th May 1862

Keywords:death, sorrow

Commentary

This quite strange anonymous poem taken from Chambers Journal (Anonymous) employs the conceit of using Death as the speaker, who From the point of view of Death, who claims to be doing his victims favour by taking them to a better place. Interestingly the idea of paradise presented in this poem is fairly secular – there are palm trees and holidays rather than angels, and there are hints of humour in the tone. It is certainly far less sentimental than much of the other death-related poetry in this and other newspapers. Of course, with the rise in the general mortality rate during the Cotton Famine, there was a particular interest in, and poignancy to, the publication of poems on the subject of death, and the variations of approaches that exist in Victorian verse are thrown into further relief. – SR