 | Jones Very : The Complete Poems |  |
William Cullen Bryant
No gloom o'er Nature's face is spread,
Though to his rest her son is gone;
He who her choir in song has led,
And her bright crown, and laurel won.
Though to his rest her son is gone;
He who her choir in song has led,
And her bright crown, and laurel won.
She comes in all her beauty bloom,
To deck the forest, field, and hill;
Her roses breathe their sweet perfume,
Her songs the groves with music fill.
To deck the forest, field, and hill;
Her roses breathe their sweet perfume,
Her songs the groves with music fill.
518
Why should we mourn? with honors crowned,
And length of days, he passed away;
A nobler life than this has found,
Why on the earth prolong his stay?
And length of days, he passed away;
A nobler life than this has found,
Why on the earth prolong his stay?
Why mourn the Patriot, and the Man,
Lover of Country, and his race;
Who, in his broad, far reaching plan,
Could all mankind as one embrace?
Lover of Country, and his race;
Who, in his broad, far reaching plan,
Could all mankind as one embrace?
Why do we mourn? for still shall live
The strains, which Nature's self inspired;
To other minds his genius give,
And other hearts by his be fired.
The strains, which Nature's self inspired;
To other minds his genius give,
And other hearts by his be fired.
Poem No. 354; 12–21 June 1878
| Jones Very : The Complete Poems | |