 | [Poems by Drake in] The life and works of Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) |  |
283
To Eliza
Sigh not, Eliza, though winter has shrouded,The woodlands in gloom and the valleys in snow,
Though the mantle of tempest the azure has clouded,
And darkened the orbits that sparkle and glow.
Sigh not, my love, though the snow-drop has faded,
That laughed on the forehead of life-giving spring,
Though the garland is withered that summer had braided,
Mid the gold-burnished ringlets of autumn to fling.
In the world, in our bosoms of spirit and light,
There rises no winter, there rages no storms,
No wrecks of the whirlwind, no shadows of night
Our quiet invades, or our pleasure deforms.
The breezes which played on the brow of the mountain,
Blow hoarse through the forest and keen through the dale,
Though cold are the sunbeams that glanced on the fountain,
And dead is the violet that scented the vale.
The beam of affection enlightens our hours,
Dispersing the shadows, sorrow, and gloom,
For love strews the path of existence with flowers,
Perennial in fragrance, eternal in bloom.
| [Poems by Drake in] The life and works of Joseph Rodman Drake (1795-1820) | |