Death of Dickens.

Auckland Star, Volume VI, Issue 1659, 12 June 1875, Page 6 (Supplement)

Death of Dickens.

[Jtjxe 9, 1870 ]

BY JOHN MACKJfAIT. j ______ ] 'Mong England's bills and picturesque domains ; Her bracing fields, and primrose-kirtled plains ; There sweetly bloom, with various colors blent No ricber scenes than those of fruitful Kent; And near the Medway, 'mid those Kentish j lands, I A pleasant house with goodly frontag9 stands ; j Where genial Spring her earliest violets strewa And fruited Autumn smiles in golden hues ; Where gentle Sbakespere is remembered still, And playful Fancy laughs on famed Gad's bill, Where Dickens rang his happy Christmas chimes, Inspiring hearts with views of butter times . His carol breathed benevolent and sweet, In Pickwick's moas'd and fiveij green retreat: There Dickens sought reposej from toil and care ; 1 A secret cba-m had lured (he novelist there; A memory bright of other happier years; Of Falstaff's haunts and childhoods silver • tears; Amid the tangled woods aid golden glooms, The sprpading elms, and Summer's varying blooms ; He sought, the balm.that soothes the weary heart, Which fame, deceptive, never can impart: Where, in some overspreading, leafy bower, He might, alone, muse o'er some favourite flower; He sat, on that June morning 'neath the trees, With forehead bare to meet the early breeze ; And beard old Bochester's cathedral chime, Struck harshly by the restless hand of time ; At length he rose, 'twas at the hour of noon, And crossed a meadow full of pearls of June ; Then passed along a hawthorn-scented lane, And reached once more his pleasant home again; He wheeled around his easy, cushioned chair ; And sat awhile in meditation there ; Evolving in his mind some genial thought, Of spectred scene, with some deep mystery fraught; • Or scene still darker in some narrow street, Where wasting vice and ragged misery meet, . Whate'er his thoughts on that fair summer's day, 'Tween startling pain, and blue-eyed Fancy's play; Whate'er the scones or thoughts ho pondered o'er, His trembling hand would picture themjio more, For death was near. The curtains were undrawn, That he might see the daisies on tho lawn ; That life and light from the great sun and eky, Might cheer his souland please his once bright evei i The sunbeam settled on his paling face ; Which boro a shadow it was hard to trace ; He dropped his head with sudden sense of pain, And felt a weight upon his busy brain ; ' Oh, shut the window,' fuintly then he sighed, And fell into a sister's arms, and died.