We gathered round the festive board, The crackling faggot blazed, But few would taste the wine that poured, Or join the song we raised. For there was now a glass unfilled -- A favoured place to spare; All eyes were dull, all hearts were chilled -- The loved one was not there. No happy laugh was heard to ring, No form would lead the dance; A smothered sorrow seemed to fling A gloom in every glance. The grave had closed upon a brow, The honest, bright, and fair; We missed our mate, we mourned the blow -- The loved one was not there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH WRITTEN ON A WALL AT WOODSTOCK by ELIZABETH I MODERN LOVE: 47 by GEORGE MEREDITH OUR STATE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER ADOLESCENCE by MAVIS CLARE BARNETT WHEN KREISLER PLAYS by FRANCES BARTLETT DEDICATION OF THE DESIGNS TO BLAIR'S GRAVE: TO THE QUEEN by WILLIAM BLAKE |