(Originally submitted by Susan Newell to the Whipple Website, May 30, 2011: "Transcribed from a fragile document, beautifully handwritten in fine, small, perfect script with quill pen and now faded ink, probably dating to the mid to late 1800s." At the time, Susan thought Priam might be a child of Eugene Whipple? On July 10, 2011, Susan submitted a correction, suggesting that Priam might more likely be a brother of Eugene. Within the next few days, Priam will appear in the Whipple Genweb as Eugene's brother.)
Here drooping by his lifeless side
Pensive retired with grief oer' borne
Lovely in Death my darling pride
He my long weeping Heart will Mourn.
Farewell then Dearest of my Heart,
Whom neither tears nor prayer could save,
Tis Deaths redoubled pain to part,
And leave such Beauty in the Grave.
Ah! He that once such Beauty graced.
His winning smiles -- His angel form,
Corruptions greedy train shall waste.
The Mouldering Dust -- the feasting Worm:
His tongue whose gentle prattlings blest,
His hands whose tender touch could charm,
No more with Kisses shall be prest,
No more his Mothers bosom warm.
Where His loved sight could once rejoice,
Now forced his absence to sustain.
Mine ears wait listening for His Voice,
I turn and seek His glimpses in vain.
By Night my Eyes the search repeat,
Sad to the Glittering Skies they roll,
"Tell Me" I say The Happy Seat,
Say where reside His blissful Soul:
Yet with bright hopes in distant View
My faith instructed by the Sod,
Bids the false joys of Earth Adieu,
And Bows before the Sovreign God.
Happy for Him so soon -- so well,
To escape the woes which life annoy,
To part with few sad tales to tell,
With me black grief to damp His joy:
Till the last hour of general Doom,
Kind Angels guard his precious trust:
Lock the cold Chambers of the Tomb,
Then wake my Priam's slumbering Dust.
That day shall bring Him to my Sight,
His presence shall my joys restore,
Tell me thou thought with vast delight,
When Death shall never part us more.