 | The Poetical Works of Robert Story |  |
254
I saw her in the Violet time.
1837.
[_]
[On hearing of the death of Miss Hogarth—second daughter of George Hogarth, Esq., and sister-in-law of Charles Dickens—whom I had seen in high health the year before. It has been often copied and circulated.]
I saw her in the violet time,
When bees are on the wing,
And then she stood in maiden prime—
The fairest flower of spring!
Her glances, as the falcon's bright,
Had arch ness in their ray;
Her motion and her heart were light
As linnet's on the spray!
When bees are on the wing,
And then she stood in maiden prime—
The fairest flower of spring!
Her glances, as the falcon's bright,
Had arch ness in their ray;
Her motion and her heart were light
As linnet's on the spray!
'Tis come again, the violet time,
When flits the mountain bee;
And others stand in maiden prime,
But where—O! where is She?
Alas! the linnet now may sing
Beside her early tomb!
Alas! the fairest flower of spring
Hath perished in its bloom!
When flits the mountain bee;
And others stand in maiden prime,
But where—O! where is She?
Alas! the linnet now may sing
Beside her early tomb!
Alas! the fairest flower of spring
Hath perished in its bloom!
But no, but no! That maiden now,
Immortal and serene,
Wears glory on her noble brow
That “eye hath never seen!”
That flower, too soft for this world's air,
Transplanted in its prime,
Blooms now where it is always fair,
And always violet time!
Immortal and serene,
Wears glory on her noble brow
That “eye hath never seen!”
That flower, too soft for this world's air,
Transplanted in its prime,
Blooms now where it is always fair,
And always violet time!
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