Sunday, August 21, 2011


The following lines were composed on the death of an infant brother – he was a child remarkable for infantile (sic) intelligence and extreme beauty – the deep lustre of his clear blue eyes beautiful curls of his sunny hair waving over his lovely forehead always brought to my mind the forms of those bright thousands who sing the holy song before the eternal throne in the blest place where I hope once more to meet him. A few days after leaving Ireland his spirit took its flight and his body was committed to the deep waves of the Atlantic there to repose till the mighty voice that shakes Heaven and Earth shall say: Give up thy dead thou Sea.

He came in beauty like the breath
Of perfume on a flower
He came in beauty like the sound
Of music through a bower
He came among us like a beam
Of radiance from above
He came among us like a dream
Of pure and holy love
His life was like a drop of dew
Upon the rose's leaf
His life was like the rainbow's hue
As lovely and as brief
He faded as the brightness fades
Upon the ice plants wreath
He faded as a flower fades
Beneath the chill wind's breath
He sleeps beneath the ocean's wave
Where the pearl lies deep and clear
The wild sea pours its melody
Upon his sleeping ear
He sleeps in a lovely coral bower
Where gems and gold are bright
And where the weeping pale sea flower
Gleams in the ruby's light
He'll rise again in glory bright
From his still and lonely bed
He'll rise in that awful morning's light
When the sea gives up its dead
He'll stand amid the holy throng
In their home of peace and rest
He'll join the loud triumphant song
With the spirits of the blest
And shall I meet him there my God
And stand before thy face
And meet a welcome such as he
Into thine holy place
Oh Father guide me through the woes
That round my pathway lie
And grant that I may stand so pure
Before thy righteous eye
My God then give me faith and hope
To lead me on my way
And grant that I may … ….. thee
In climes of eternal day
Transcribed from Emily's album

Heartfelt thanks to my friend, Lyn Nunn, who has allowed me to post these wonderful verses written by Emily Elizabeth Beavan ( nee Shaw), her great, great grandmother.
There is a gentleness and an underlying strength in her words as she portrays life in the 1800's.

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