 | Forest leaves |  |
TO THE FIRST SPRING FLOWER.
Sweet bud of happiness and hope
Young daughter of the spring;
How timidly thy soft leaves ope,
While o'er thy head fond zephyrs droop
The warm and dewy wing.
Young daughter of the spring;
How timidly thy soft leaves ope,
While o'er thy head fond zephyrs droop
The warm and dewy wing.
253
Too early, little azure flower,
Thy fragile bloom is spread,
For winter yet, with lingering power,
Will heap his snow and icy shower,
Upon thy beauteous head.
Thy fragile bloom is spread,
For winter yet, with lingering power,
Will heap his snow and icy shower,
Upon thy beauteous head.
How joyously thou'rt looking up
Toward the sunbright sky,
As with a timid smile of hope—
With incense in thy little cup,
And tears in thy blue eye.
Toward the sunbright sky,
As with a timid smile of hope—
With incense in thy little cup,
And tears in thy blue eye.
Ah me! Mine eyes are filling too
With tears unlike to thine.
Thine eye is gemm'd with holy dew—
But bitter drops of earth-born wo
Swell painfully in mine.
With tears unlike to thine.
Thine eye is gemm'd with holy dew—
But bitter drops of earth-born wo
Swell painfully in mine.
To me thy leaves are written o'er
With mem'ries of sweet hours,
In which my little heart ran o'er
With bliss, which can return no more
With spring's returning flowers.
With mem'ries of sweet hours,
In which my little heart ran o'er
With bliss, which can return no more
With spring's returning flowers.
When I knelt down upon the sod
With unalloy'd delight,
And fondly kiss'd the early bud,
And offer'd simple thanks to God
For gifts so sweet, and bright.
With unalloy'd delight,
And fondly kiss'd the early bud,
And offer'd simple thanks to God
For gifts so sweet, and bright.
254
My spirit then was like to thee,
No storm had o'er it blown,
And from its holy treasury,
Young hopes and loves were joyously,
On passing zephyrs thrown.
No storm had o'er it blown,
And from its holy treasury,
Young hopes and loves were joyously,
On passing zephyrs thrown.
My dreams were full of romance then,
Of everliving truth,
Of love unting'd by mortal stain,
Of years of bliss uncross'd by pain,
Of age as bright as youth;
Of everliving truth,
Of love unting'd by mortal stain,
Of years of bliss uncross'd by pain,
Of age as bright as youth;
Of blessings, which the good must gain,
Crowns that the great must wear;
Of laurels none need seek in vain,
Of bright rewards for every pain,
And gold, for toil, and care.
Crowns that the great must wear;
Of laurels none need seek in vain,
Of bright rewards for every pain,
And gold, for toil, and care.
My hopes were like thee, April flower,
They budded all too soon,
And when the cold relentless shower
Arose, they bent beneath its power,
Crush'd, wither'd, and undone.
They budded all too soon,
And when the cold relentless shower
Arose, they bent beneath its power,
Crush'd, wither'd, and undone.
Yet o'er the now deserted spot
Fond memory loves to weep,
Where spring flowers bloom'd, which now are not,
And hopes that cannot be forgot,
In precious ruin sleep.
Fond memory loves to weep,
Where spring flowers bloom'd, which now are not,
And hopes that cannot be forgot,
In precious ruin sleep.
| Forest leaves | |