 | Poems by Three Friends |  |
83
LINES, TO A FRIEND IN SICKNESS.
The rose from Lelia's cheek is fled,
Faint is the lustre of her eye,
And dewy damps, by sickness spread,
Cold on her aching temples lie.
Faint is the lustre of her eye,
And dewy damps, by sickness spread,
Cold on her aching temples lie.
The early primrose on the hill,
All lovely blooms in vernal skies;
Till nipping gales its bosom chill,
Then low on earth its beauty lies.
All lovely blooms in vernal skies;
Till nipping gales its bosom chill,
Then low on earth its beauty lies.
Thus young, thus lovely to the eye,
Her mild, her modest graces blew;
Nursed by each sun-beam of the sky,
And watered with ethereal dew.
Her mild, her modest graces blew;
Nursed by each sun-beam of the sky,
And watered with ethereal dew.
84
Till Winter shed his sleety shower
Upon the cold and rifling gale;
Then blighted left the fair one's bower,
And left the fair one, sickening, pale.
Upon the cold and rifling gale;
Then blighted left the fair one's bower,
And left the fair one, sickening, pale.
O, that I were thy brother dear,
To raise from pain thy drooping head!
I'd wipe away each starting tear,
And keep my vigils round thy bed.
To raise from pain thy drooping head!
I'd wipe away each starting tear,
And keep my vigils round thy bed.
Would bid those mild, those pensive eyes
Forget their cares, and cease to weep;
And call on angels from the skies,
To ease their weary orbs with sleep.
Forget their cares, and cease to weep;
And call on angels from the skies,
To ease their weary orbs with sleep.
Then tenderly I'd pillow thee,
Thy head upon my troubled breast;
Unbroken should thy slumber be,
And sweet the visions of thy rest.
Thy head upon my troubled breast;
Unbroken should thy slumber be,
And sweet the visions of thy rest.
85
Thee no intrusive wind should harm,
My sheltering arms around thee cast,
I'd shield thee from the raging storm,
I'd shield thee from the bitter blast.
My sheltering arms around thee cast,
I'd shield thee from the raging storm,
I'd shield thee from the bitter blast.
Till Winter's dark and dreary night,
With all his sullen train had fled;
And Spring, arrayed in virgin white,
Her mildest influence o'er thee shed.
With all his sullen train had fled;
And Spring, arrayed in virgin white,
Her mildest influence o'er thee shed.
| Poems by Three Friends | |