TO THE FLOWERS.
O fair and lovely blossoms, that adornAll nature with your loveliness and grace!From far-off South-lands blew the breezes mild,And Springtime's gentle voice again was heardThat called you forth to follow in her train.At her approach the moaning March-winds fled,And April, 'mid its sunshine and its show'rs,Led forth the floral train to welcome May.
Oh, say, fair children of the blooming spring,Know ye the changes that old Time hath wroughtSince last the springtime blossoms met us here?Heard ye the coming of that being dread,The angel Death, whose dark and gloomy wingO'er many hearthstones hath its shadows cast,That never on this earth shall take their flight?And now ye bloom o'er many new-made graves,Where forms of infancy, of youth, and ageAre resting till the Resurrection morn.Bright eyes that gazed upon the springtime flow'rs
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