 | A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England |  |
THE HEART'S-EASE EXPIRING.
The sunny-eyed flower looked smiling up,
Happy, though failing fast;
And a sweet voice stole from its closing cup,—
Poor thing! it was breathing its last!
Happy, though failing fast;
And a sweet voice stole from its closing cup,—
Poor thing! it was breathing its last!
“Well!” said the blossom, “I'm dying it seems!
And why should I fear to die?
I've had my share of life-warm beams
From the spirit of light on high.
And why should I fear to die?
I've had my share of life-warm beams
From the spirit of light on high.
“Oh! when the queen-rose, in her beauty and bloom
O'ershadowing poor little me,
Seemed to bid all the glory of heaven illume
Her own wealth of leaves opened free.
O'ershadowing poor little me,
Seemed to bid all the glory of heaven illume
Her own wealth of leaves opened free.
144
“She little imagined the sun's loved smile,
Which she deemed was delighted to find her,
Was playing bopeep through her stems the while
With the happy Heart's-ease behind her!
Which she deemed was delighted to find her,
Was playing bopeep through her stems the while
With the happy Heart's-ease behind her!
“She little imagined, when Zephyrus bore
On his pinions her rich warm sighs,
At the same time he borrowed from my little store
An offering sweet for the skies.
On his pinions her rich warm sighs,
At the same time he borrowed from my little store
An offering sweet for the skies.
“She did not perceive, as she blushingly bent
Her brow to his playful caresses,
How he slyly stole o'er, and, on mischief intent,
My modest cheek covered with kisses!
Her brow to his playful caresses,
How he slyly stole o'er, and, on mischief intent,
My modest cheek covered with kisses!
“And she never e'en dreamed, when the maiden gay
Came to look at her beautiful pet,
That she wore my smile in her heart away,
While her own grew sunnier yet.
Came to look at her beautiful pet,
That she wore my smile in her heart away,
While her own grew sunnier yet.
“I am sure she will miss me the very next time
Her fairy feet glide that way;
And what will the herald of day's sweet prime—
Oh! what will the sunbeam say?
Her fairy feet glide that way;
And what will the herald of day's sweet prime—
Oh! what will the sunbeam say?
145
“When he comes to-morrow, and glances round
For the poor Heart's-ease in vain,
Will his smile be dimm'd as he reaches the ground,
Will he wish for my welcome again?
For the poor Heart's-ease in vain,
Will his smile be dimm'd as he reaches the ground,
Will he wish for my welcome again?
“And Zephyr too after his soft repose
On the heart of some night-blooming flower,
Will his kiss be cold for the queenly rose?
Will he ask why I fled from her bower?
On the heart of some night-blooming flower,
Will his kiss be cold for the queenly rose?
Will he ask why I fled from her bower?
“I have borne every change of my humble lot
With a smiling and shadowless eye;
And heaven's warm smile has been never forgot
When the storm swept sullenly by.
With a smiling and shadowless eye;
And heaven's warm smile has been never forgot
When the storm swept sullenly by.
“My life has been innocent, lovely and pure,
And all my heart's wealth I have given;
Tho' tempests would threaten, and sunbeams lure,
Still smiling and true unto Heaven.
And all my heart's wealth I have given;
Tho' tempests would threaten, and sunbeams lure,
Still smiling and true unto Heaven.
“A philosopher said, as he passed me one day,
That nothing was lost upon earth;
Who knows but I'll spring up some fine summer day
In a loftier, lovelier birth?
That nothing was lost upon earth;
Who knows but I'll spring up some fine summer day
In a loftier, lovelier birth?
146
“Whatever it is, 'twill be happy and bright,—
For where could this sunny heart go,
If not into some form of beauty and light?—
At least, I will fancy it so!
For where could this sunny heart go,
If not into some form of beauty and light?—
At least, I will fancy it so!
“Ah me! I must bid my gay sisters farewell!
Sweet Zephyr receive my last sigh!
Oh! breathe for the Heart's-ease one requiem knell!
I tremble—I wither—I die!”
Sweet Zephyr receive my last sigh!
Oh! breathe for the Heart's-ease one requiem knell!
I tremble—I wither—I die!”
| A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England | |