Poems.
105
The cypress and yew should mark the grave,
And the bending grass should gently wave,
Over the being that Heaven gave,
Bright purity's breast.
And the bending grass should gently wave,
Over the being that Heaven gave,
Bright purity's breast.
The mellowed voice of the midnight air,
Should breathe a pensive requeim there;
And the place should a holy silence wear,
Where the absent dwells.
The birds should come at the twilight hour,
And swell their notes in the sacred bower,
Where the waving branch and fragrant flower,
Their loneliness tells.
Should breathe a pensive requeim there;
And the place should a holy silence wear,
Where the absent dwells.
The birds should come at the twilight hour,
And swell their notes in the sacred bower,
Where the waving branch and fragrant flower,
Their loneliness tells.
The spirit of Poesy should rear
The hallowed shrine of devotion here,
And pure affection's rising tear,
Should love to linger
Around the cherished tenant's place,
And like a gem in a sacred vase,
No ruthless power will it e'er efface,
Save Time's own finger.
The hallowed shrine of devotion here,
And pure affection's rising tear,
Should love to linger
Around the cherished tenant's place,
And like a gem in a sacred vase,
No ruthless power will it e'er efface,
Save Time's own finger.
Then place her gently in the ground,
Where verdant sods doth spread around,
While friendship hallows the sacred mound,
Over the one we love.
Where verdant sods doth spread around,
While friendship hallows the sacred mound,
Over the one we love.
