 | Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies |  |
LX.
HEEDLESSNESS.
We see the flow'r decaying as we pass,Pale with the coming cold, and, on the grass,
Write ruin, with our footsteps, every hour,
Yet pause not in our progress, though a pow'r,
As much superior to ourselves, as we
To these dumb suff'rers of the predestined earth,
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To a like ruin with the things we see;
And, from our side, as little heeded, goes,
Drawn by invisible cords, the treasured thing
That has our heart, in keeping;—yet we sing
As idly as if life were free from foes,
And love were sure 'gainst danger;—there is one,
Who, speaking near me now, of death, is heard by none!
| Grouped thoughts and scattered fancies | |