 | The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer |  |
245
CHURCH-YARD FLOWERS.
Flowers of the church-yard!
Ye are as bright of hue
As sisters that in greener spots
Quaff drops of morning dew:
A charm to the house of death ye gave,
Springing in beauty on childhood's grave—
Waving your heads in the wind, to and fro,
Types of the innocent sleeper below.
Ye are as bright of hue
As sisters that in greener spots
Quaff drops of morning dew:
A charm to the house of death ye gave,
Springing in beauty on childhood's grave—
Waving your heads in the wind, to and fro,
Types of the innocent sleeper below.
Flowers of the church-yard!
A part of her ye seem,
Who in that heavy slumber lies
That knows no pleasant dream:
I saw her blue eyes in your violet gems,
The grace of her form in your flexible stems,
In diamonds of morn on your petals that lay
Her tears, that the sunshine of joy chased away.
A part of her ye seem,
Who in that heavy slumber lies
That knows no pleasant dream:
I saw her blue eyes in your violet gems,
The grace of her form in your flexible stems,
In diamonds of morn on your petals that lay
Her tears, that the sunshine of joy chased away.
Flowers of the church-yard!
Your leaves are odorous still;
Ye died before the biting frost
Of winter-time could kill;
Though vanished our lost one from earth's fading bowers,
Remembrance of her is like fragrance of flowers;
She dawned on our vision a creature of light,
And passed ere the day was o'erclouded by night.
Your leaves are odorous still;
Ye died before the biting frost
Of winter-time could kill;
Though vanished our lost one from earth's fading bowers,
Remembrance of her is like fragrance of flowers;
She dawned on our vision a creature of light,
And passed ere the day was o'erclouded by night.
Flowers of the church-yard!
Her narrow house was cold;
Ye sprang, and warmed with summer tints
The damp and gloomy mould;
Thus came, when the path of existence was drear,
Our darling, the hearth of our homestead to cheer,
But ah! when our blossom was fairest to sight,
Gnawed the worm of decay, and descended the blight.
Her narrow house was cold;
Ye sprang, and warmed with summer tints
The damp and gloomy mould;
246
Our darling, the hearth of our homestead to cheer,
But ah! when our blossom was fairest to sight,
Gnawed the worm of decay, and descended the blight.
Flowers of the church-yard!
Another spring will wake
A painted band as deep in dye
Her grave-couch bright to make;
But ah! never more will our threshold be cross'd
By mortal, the peer of our loved and our lost;
Darkened earth was too poor such a treasure to own—
Heaven's casket is meet for such jewels alone.
Another spring will wake
A painted band as deep in dye
Her grave-couch bright to make;
But ah! never more will our threshold be cross'd
By mortal, the peer of our loved and our lost;
Darkened earth was too poor such a treasure to own—
Heaven's casket is meet for such jewels alone.
| The poetical works of William H. C. Hosmer | |