Voice of Flowers/Farewell to the Flowers
FAREWELL TO THE FLOWERS.
Go to your peaceful rest,
Friends of a brighter hour,
Jewels on youthful beauty's breast,
Lights of the hall and bower.
Well have ye done your part,
Fair children of the sky,
We'll keep your memory in our heart,
When low in dust ye lie.
Your gladness in our joy.
Your smile beside our way,
Your gentle service round the bed
Of sickness and decay,
Your rainbow on the cloud,
Your sympathy in pain;
We'll keep the memory of your deeds
Until we meet again.
Rest, from the blush of love;
Rest, from the blight of care,
From the sweet nursing of your buds,
And from the nipping air;
Rest, from the fever-thirst
Of summer's noontide heat,
From coiling worm, and rifling hand,
That vex'd your lone retreat.
If e'er ye thrilled with pride,
When the admirer knelt,
Or on the lowly look'd with scorn,
Which man for man hath felt,
If through your bosoms pure
Hath aught like evil flow'd,
(Since folly may with angels dwell,)
Rest from that painful load.
But not with grief or fear,
Bow down the drooping head;
See! in the chamber of your birth
Your dying couch is spread;
Go! strong in faith, ye flowers;
Strong in your guileless trust,
With the returning birds, to rise
Above imprisoning dust.
Hear we a whisper low,
From withering leaf and bell?
"Our life hath been a dream of love,
In garden, or in dell;
Yet wintry sleep we hail,
And, till the trump shall swell,
To wake us on the vernal morn,
Sweet friends, a sweet farewell!"
