 | Poems |  |
WILLOW.
Thou graceful golden willow tree,
When first I saw thy branches wave
There fell on me a prophesy
That thus above my quiet grave
Those long, lithe boughs should bend and sway
When what I am is passed away.
When first I saw thy branches wave
There fell on me a prophesy
That thus above my quiet grave
Those long, lithe boughs should bend and sway
When what I am is passed away.
On thee the sun at highest noon
Pours all his pure and fervent rays.
The cold, sad splendors of the moon
Refresh thee after torrid days,
And ever in thy drooping leaves
The sullen wind of midnight grieves.
Pours all his pure and fervent rays.
The cold, sad splendors of the moon
Refresh thee after torrid days,
And ever in thy drooping leaves
The sullen wind of midnight grieves.
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Sometimes when laughter's vague delight
Beguiles these lips, too used to pain,
When day outshines the coming night
And hope resumes her wistful reign,
One glance at thee will silence mirth
With the stern lesson “earth to earth.”
Beguiles these lips, too used to pain,
When day outshines the coming night
And hope resumes her wistful reign,
One glance at thee will silence mirth
With the stern lesson “earth to earth.”
Yet, verdant fate, I love thee still,
I see thy budding grace with joy,
For well I know no mortal ill
My heart shall visit or annoy
When once beneath thy solemn shade
This worn and aching clay is laid.
I see thy budding grace with joy,
For well I know no mortal ill
My heart shall visit or annoy
When once beneath thy solemn shade
This worn and aching clay is laid.
The dreary wreaths of drifted snow
Shall linger long about thy root,
Above thee howling tempests blow,
And on the hillock at thy foot
Gray heaps of withered leaves be cast
Before the winter's wailing blast.
Shall linger long about thy root,
Above thee howling tempests blow,
And on the hillock at thy foot
Gray heaps of withered leaves be cast
Before the winter's wailing blast.
Still o'er my sleep thine arms shall bend
When all I love and leave are gone,
A faithful if unconscious friend
Beside the chamber strait and lone,
That waits my long and tranquil rest,
Safe in the dumb earth's gracious breast.
When all I love and leave are gone,
A faithful if unconscious friend
Beside the chamber strait and lone,
That waits my long and tranquil rest,
Safe in the dumb earth's gracious breast.
Yet not unguerdoned shalt thou be.
The atoms which this frame compose,
By Nature's mightiest mystery,
Shall leave at length their first repose,
And in thy growth from sun and rain
Revisit air and light again.
The atoms which this frame compose,
By Nature's mightiest mystery,
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And in thy growth from sun and rain
Revisit air and light again.
Unlinked from soul and consciousness,
The life that glowed in lip and eye,
That paint the spirit's transient dress
With tender tints and varied dye,
Shall course in thine expanding veins,
Free from the bond of human pains.
The life that glowed in lip and eye,
That paint the spirit's transient dress
With tender tints and varied dye,
Shall course in thine expanding veins,
Free from the bond of human pains.
But when the Lord's triumphal voice
Shall bid his sleeping host arise,
And in their bridal robes rejoice
To meet him in the rending skies,
His hand shall bring from sea and shore
These scattered grains of dust once more.
Shall bid his sleeping host arise,
And in their bridal robes rejoice
To meet him in the rending skies,
His hand shall bring from sea and shore
These scattered grains of dust once more.
Perhaps the atoms once my own,
Long since incorporate in thee,
Shall, from the seed my God has sown
Spring up to immortality,
And in my soul's new dwelling-place
Reflect the glory of His face.
Long since incorporate in thee,
Shall, from the seed my God has sown
Spring up to immortality,
And in my soul's new dwelling-place
Reflect the glory of His face.
Therefore I watch with eagerness
To see the Spring advance in bloom,
And long, pale leaves with verdure dress
Thy weeping garlands for the tomb,
Since what I am may yet be thine
And part of thee at length be mine.
To see the Spring advance in bloom,
And long, pale leaves with verdure dress
Thy weeping garlands for the tomb,
Since what I am may yet be thine
And part of thee at length be mine.
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