Poems (Terry, 1861)/There

by Rose Terry Cooke

For works with similar titles, see There.

THERE. "La-bas! la-bas! sous la verdure!"

   Oh! if I were buried,Love, thy sweetness could not leave me,Nor thy smile, false Hope, deceive me,Neither joy nor terror grieve me      There.

   Oh that I were buried!Grass above mine eyelids growing,Overhead the wild winds blowing,Peacefully the slow years flowing,      There.

   Oh! if I were buried,Then my heart were filled forever,Throbbing pulses cease to quiver,Cooled in rapture's tranquil river,      There.

   Oh that I were buried!Never any wearied dreaming,No more night and no more seeming,Truth's eternal splendor beaming,      There.

   Oh! if I were buried,They who leave me to my sighing,Would repent above my dying,But I should not hear their crying      There.