 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
169
FOR VIOLA'S ALBUM.
Yes, I would add one humble leaf,
To the bright chaplet thou art twining,
But ah! its verdure will be brief,
For time is such an errant thief,
He blights the sweetest buds with grief,
And leaves the fairest flower declining.
To the bright chaplet thou art twining,
But ah! its verdure will be brief,
For time is such an errant thief,
He blights the sweetest buds with grief,
And leaves the fairest flower declining.
But there 's a wreath, that ne'er can fade,
Already for thy temples twined,
Such as in heaven the angels braid,
To deck the brows of every maid,
Who, like Viola, here displayed
The beauties of a cultured mind.
Already for thy temples twined,
Such as in heaven the angels braid,
To deck the brows of every maid,
Who, like Viola, here displayed
The beauties of a cultured mind.
That wreath shall deck Viola's brow,
In realms unknown to time or grief,
And each young plant she cultures now,
Each infant mind her toils endow,
Will breathe to heaven a fragrant vow,
Brightening the tints of every leaf.
In realms unknown to time or grief,
And each young plant she cultures now,
Each infant mind her toils endow,
Will breathe to heaven a fragrant vow,
Brightening the tints of every leaf.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |