The Bijou;
or Annual of Literature and the Arts
compiled by William Fraser
London: William Pickering,
1828
pp. pp. 13-15
'Twas dark with cypresses and yews which cast | 1 |
Drear shadows on the fairer trees and flowers— | 2 |
Affections latest signs. * * * | 3 |
Dark portal of another world— the grave— | 4 |
I do not fear thy shadow; and methinks, | 5 |
If I may make my own heart oracle,— | 6 |
The many long to enter thee, for thou | 7 |
Alone canst reunite the loved and lost | 8 |
With those who pine for them. I fear thee not; | 9 |
I only fear mine own unworthiness, | 10 |
Lest it prove barrier to my hope, and make | 11 |
Another parting in another world. | 12 |
************************************************************************* | 13 |
1. | 14 |
LAUREL! Oh fling thy green boughs on air, | 15 |
There is dew on thy branches, what doth it do there? | 16 |
Thou art worn on the conquerors shield, | 17 |
When his country receives him from glory's red field; | 18 |
Thou that art wreathed round the lyre of the bard, | 19 |
When the song of its sweetness has won its reward. | 20 |
Earth's changeless and sacred— thou proud laurel tree! | 21 |
The ears of the midnight, why hang they on thee? | 22 |
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2. | 23 |
Rose of the morning, the blushing and bright, | 24 |
Thou whose whole life is noe breath of delight; | 25 |
Beloved of the maiden, the chosen to bind | 26 |
Her dark tresses' wealth from the wild summer wind. | 27 |
Fair tablet, still vowed to the thoughts of the lover, | 28 |
Whose rich leaves with sweet secrets are written all over; | 29 |
Fragrant as blooming— thou lovely rose tree! | 30 |
The tears of the midnight, why hang they on thee? | 31 |
3. | 32 |
Dark cypress I see thee— thou art my reply, | 33 |
Why the tears of the night on thy comrade trees lie; | 34 |
That laurel it wreathed the red brow of the brave, | 35 |
Yet thy shadow lies black on the warriors grave. | 36 |
That rose was less bright than the lip which it prest, | 37 |
Yet thy sad branches sweep o'er the maiden's last rest: | 38 |
The brave and the lovely alike they are sleeping, | 39 |
I marvel no more rose and laurel are weeping. | 40 |
5. | 56 |
O heart of mine! Is there not One dwelling there | 57 |
To whom thy love clings in its hope and its prayer? | 58 |
For whose sake thou numberest each hour of the day, | 59 |
As a link in the fetters that keep me away; | 60 |
When I think of the glad and the beautiful home, | 61 |
Which oft in my dreams to my spirit hath come; | 62 |
That when our last sleep on my eyelids hath prest; | 63 |
That I may be with thee at home and at rest: | 64 |
When wanderer no longer on life's weary shore, | 65 |
I may kneel at thy feet, and part from thee no more; | 66 |
While death holds such hope forth to soothe and to save, | 67 |
Oh sumbeam of heaven thou mayest will light the grave. | 68 |