SONGS OF FAREWELL.
DEATH.
"Leaves and clustered fruits, and flowers eterne,
Eternal to the world, but not to me."—Hood.
Eternal to the world, but not to me."—Hood.
The Spring will come again, dear friends,
The Swallow o'er the Sea;
The bud will hang upon the bough,
The blossom on the tree;
And many a pleasant sound will rise to greet her on her way,
The voice of bird, and leaf, and stream, and warm winds in their play;
Oh! sweet the airs that round her breathe! and bountiful is she,
She bringeth all the things that fresh, and sweet, and hopeful be;
She scatters promise on the Earth with open hand and free,
But not for me, my friends,
But not for me!
The Swallow o'er the Sea;
The bud will hang upon the bough,
The blossom on the tree;
And many a pleasant sound will rise to greet her on her way,
The voice of bird, and leaf, and stream, and warm winds in their play;
Oh! sweet the airs that round her breathe! and bountiful is she,
She bringeth all the things that fresh, and sweet, and hopeful be;
She scatters promise on the Earth with open hand and free,
But not for me, my friends,
But not for me!
Summer will come again, dear friends,
Low murmurs of the Bee
Low murmurs of the Bee
