 | Love's memorial |  |
3
EASTER SONG.
Poor Muse, to thee what may these sunbeams say?
Old ere thy time, decrepit in thy youth,
Accept in peace the inevitable truth,
Be joined again unto the unquickening clay.
Old ere thy time, decrepit in thy youth,
Accept in peace the inevitable truth,
Be joined again unto the unquickening clay.
Thy voice is lost, poor songstress of a day!
There was a time when every passing grief
Held out to thee its presage of delight:
Now dulled and wearied, through unending night
Thy soul sinks downward, hopeless of relief.
Held out to thee its presage of delight:
Now dulled and wearied, through unending night
Thy soul sinks downward, hopeless of relief.
O passionless despair beyond belief!
The flowers leap forth to mock thine aching soul:
The dancing sun laughs at thy dreary pain:
Drive toward thy tomb with an untightened rein,
On limping steeds attain thy utmost goal!
The dancing sun laughs at thy dreary pain:
Drive toward thy tomb with an untightened rein,
On limping steeds attain thy utmost goal!
At the grave's mouth death takes thy heart for toll.
| Love's memorial | |