 | Miscellaneous Poems |  |
19
A. B.
[“Sweets to the sweet.”]
“Sweets to the sweet.”
—Then let the seasons bring
Their tributary gifts to deck her tomb;
Call from their sleep the earliest buds of Spring,
Let Summer's breath awake her roseate bloom.
Their tributary gifts to deck her tomb;
Call from their sleep the earliest buds of Spring,
Let Summer's breath awake her roseate bloom.
From every moss-grown dell, and leafy nook,
Let the wild flowers their colour'd wings expand;
And what beside the murmurs of the brook
Build their sweet bowers, by whisp'ring zephyrs fann'd.
Let the wild flowers their colour'd wings expand;
And what beside the murmurs of the brook
Build their sweet bowers, by whisp'ring zephyrs fann'd.
What the green orchards of their glory shed;
What the soft winds from blushing thickets bear;
All that the silver dews of April fed,
There strew—the sorrow of our hearts is there.
What the soft winds from blushing thickets bear;
All that the silver dews of April fed,
There strew—the sorrow of our hearts is there.
So leave them in their beauty;—let them be,
Emblems, though frail, of Mercy, bringing down,
Dear child, its bright and fadeless wreath to thee,—
The immortal verdure of the Amaranth crown.
Emblems, though frail, of Mercy, bringing down,
Dear child, its bright and fadeless wreath to thee,—
The immortal verdure of the Amaranth crown.
| Miscellaneous Poems | |