 | The Burden of the Bell and Other Lyrics |  |
49
FLOWER DIRGES.
Sing ye dirges for the flowers?
Nay,—their prime is past and gone;
Fed with sunshine and sweet showers,
They have graced the summer hours,—
Now, their work is done:
From the uplands, fierce and strong,
Bitter blasts will blow ere long—
Happy they, seeure of shelter
From wild winter's wrong!
They have left us, undismayed
By the change that did befall;
Wearied out with shine and shade,
It rejoiced them, one and all,
To escape from daylight's ken
To their chambers subterrain,—
There to rest awhile, and then
Weave their summer robes again,
Weave them fresh, and weave them fair,
And their fragrant spells prepare:—
Therefore, sing no mournful dirges, for these flowers, O men!
Nay,—their prime is past and gone;
Fed with sunshine and sweet showers,
They have graced the summer hours,—
Now, their work is done:
From the uplands, fierce and strong,
Bitter blasts will blow ere long—
Happy they, seeure of shelter
From wild winter's wrong!
They have left us, undismayed
By the change that did befall;
Wearied out with shine and shade,
It rejoiced them, one and all,
To escape from daylight's ken
To their chambers subterrain,—
There to rest awhile, and then
Weave their summer robes again,
Weave them fresh, and weave them fair,
And their fragrant spells prepare:—
Therefore, sing no mournful dirges, for these flowers, O men!
50
But, if ye must sing, sad-hearted,
Thus, your withered joys among,
Wail ye for the hopes departed
Since the year was young.—
For the hopes that, bright and glowing,
Sprang beside the rivers flowing
Through the land of thought erewhile,—
Sprang, soul-nurtured, and grew lovely
In Faith's halcyon smile,
Till the world's breath reached them:—slowly
Then ye felt their beauty wane;
One by one, they vanished wholly
Into Death's domain,—
Fading, not, like Earth's pale blossoms,
Soon perchance to bloom again.
For high hopes, then, lowly lying,—
Meek hopes, once so fair to see,—
Loving hopes, all coldly dying,—
Heavenward hopes—ah, me!
Sing ye dirges, deep in sadness, for these flowers, O men!
Thus, your withered joys among,
Wail ye for the hopes departed
Since the year was young.—
For the hopes that, bright and glowing,
Sprang beside the rivers flowing
Through the land of thought erewhile,—
Sprang, soul-nurtured, and grew lovely
In Faith's halcyon smile,
Till the world's breath reached them:—slowly
Then ye felt their beauty wane;
One by one, they vanished wholly
Into Death's domain,—
Fading, not, like Earth's pale blossoms,
Soon perchance to bloom again.
For high hopes, then, lowly lying,—
Meek hopes, once so fair to see,—
Loving hopes, all coldly dying,—
Heavenward hopes—ah, me!
Sing ye dirges, deep in sadness, for these flowers, O men!
| The Burden of the Bell and Other Lyrics | |