The works of Mrs. Hemans With a memoir of her life, by her sister. In seven volumes |
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THE SHADOW OF A FLOWER. |
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 | The works of Mrs. Hemans |  |
THE SHADOW OF A FLOWER.
“La voilà telle que la mort nous l'a faite.”
Bossuet.
Bossuet.
'Twas a dream of olden days,
That Art, by some strange power,
The visionary form could raise
From the ashes of a flower.
That Art, by some strange power,
The visionary form could raise
From the ashes of a flower.
That a shadow of the rose,
By its own meek beauty bow'd,
Might slowly, leaf by leaf, unclose,
Like pictures in a cloud.
By its own meek beauty bow'd,
Might slowly, leaf by leaf, unclose,
Like pictures in a cloud.
Or the hyacinth, to grace,
As a second rainbow, Spring;
Of Summer's path a dreary trace,
A fair, yet mournful thing!
As a second rainbow, Spring;
Of Summer's path a dreary trace,
A fair, yet mournful thing!
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For the glory of the bloom
That a flush around it shed,
And the soul within, the rich perfume,
Where were they?—fled, all fled!
That a flush around it shed,
And the soul within, the rich perfume,
Where were they?—fled, all fled!
Nought but the dim faint line
To speak of vanish'd hours—
Memory! what are joys of thine?
—Shadows of buried flowers!
To speak of vanish'd hours—
Memory! what are joys of thine?
—Shadows of buried flowers!
| The works of Mrs. Hemans | |