 | Poems (1859) |  |
218
ODE TO LAURA.
O, softly sighing will I mourn
The beauteous blossom, nipp'd in spring,
And hang a chaplet on the urn
Of lovely virtue's blossoming.
The beauteous blossom, nipp'd in spring,
And hang a chaplet on the urn
Of lovely virtue's blossoming.
O'er her no praise shall marble bear,—
That pageant vain of solemn pride;
Though all on earth I held most dear
Forsook me when my Laura died.
That pageant vain of solemn pride;
Though all on earth I held most dear
Forsook me when my Laura died.
Oh! 'tis in vain—I'll cease to try
To express in words my sorrow deep;
For could I write a river dry,
My eyes a sea of tears could weep.
To express in words my sorrow deep;
For could I write a river dry,
My eyes a sea of tears could weep.
219
But words can never show the worth
Of her who was too fair to stay
A mourner on a joyless earth,
When fit for everlasting day.
Of her who was too fair to stay
A mourner on a joyless earth,
When fit for everlasting day.
| Poems (1859) | |