University of Virginia Library

I BORE ON MY BROWS.

I bore on my brows a burning wreath
Of youth and hope most bright—
And I shrank from the very thought of Death,
Of Solitude and Night!

102

Wreathed with the myrtle and the rose,
Was the glowing wreath I wore;
But there are lovelier things than those,
For chastened hearts in store!
Thank Heaven—thank Heaven—that one by one
Such earth-born blooms decay!
For when they are withered and undone,
Spring lovelier things than they!
I must crown these brows, sublimely now,
With an everlasting wreath—
And wean my thoughts from things below,
From Night—and Earth—and Death!
For when of old I fondly deemed—
From these I shrank away;
Ah me! I idly, vainly dreamed,
And stooped me to their sway!

103

While I but plucked Earth's smiling flowers
Of Youth—Hope, Love, and Joy—
I held to things, which fleeting hours
Can blight and can destroy!
But, Oh! thank Heaven! that one by one
These flowers have dropped away:
Now that their breath and bloom are gone,
I dread not Death's sure day!
Let me crown my pale and thoughtful brow,
With flowers of heavenly breath—
And shrink indeed, and truly now—
From Earth—and Night—and Death!
Yes—powerless was the wreath I wore,
To battle 'gainst the blight;
But now, indeed, in truth, I soar
Beyond Earth—Death—and Night!