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 | Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood |  |
442
XCIV. THE WILD WOOD-ROSE.
The wild wood-rose was blushing
Beside our sunny way;
The mountain rill was gushing
In light, melodious play;
When last thy vows I listen'd,
When last thy kiss I met,
And thou thy dark eyes glisten'd
With fondness and regret.
Beside our sunny way;
The mountain rill was gushing
In light, melodious play;
When last thy vows I listen'd,
When last thy kiss I met,
And thou thy dark eyes glisten'd
With fondness and regret.
The wild wood-rose, o'ershaded
By clouds, has lost its bloom;
And Love's soft flower has faded
'Neath falsehood, grief, and gloom.
The waves, in winter failing,
No more to music part,
And I but weep, bewailing
The winter of the heart.
By clouds, has lost its bloom;
And Love's soft flower has faded
'Neath falsehood, grief, and gloom.
The waves, in winter failing,
No more to music part,
And I but weep, bewailing
The winter of the heart.
The wild wood-rose, resuming
Its bloom and beauty gay,
The fitful gale perfuming,
Again shall grace the way;
Again the mountain river
Its melody shall pour;
But thou returnest never!
And Love will bloom no more!
Its bloom and beauty gay,
The fitful gale perfuming,
Again shall grace the way;
Again the mountain river
Its melody shall pour;
But thou returnest never!
And Love will bloom no more!
| Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | |