Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 40 1834/Ye are not miss'd, fair Flowers

by Felicia Hemans

For other versions of this work, see Ye are not miss'd, fair Flowers.

The New Monthly Magazine, Volume 40, Page 290

SONGS FOR EVENING MUSIC*^[1]

BY MRS. HEMANS.

I.
Ye are not miss'd, fair Flowers.

 
Ye are not miss'd, fair flowers, that late were spreading
    The summer's glow by fount and dreary grot;
There falls the dew, its fairy favours shedding,—
    The leaves dance on, the young birds miss you not.

Still plays the sparkle o'er the rippling water,
    O Lily! whence thy cup of pearl hath gone;
The bright wave mourns not for its loveliest daughter,
    There is no sorrow in the wind's low tone.

And thou, meek Hyacinth! afar is roving
    The bee that oft thy trembling bells hath kiss'd;
Cradled ye were, fair flowers! 'midst all things loving,
    A joy to all; yet, yet ye are not miss'd!

Ye, that were born to lend the sunbeam gladness,
    And the winds fragrance, wandering where they list,—
Oh! it were breathing words too deep in sadness,
    To say, Earth's human flowers not more are miss'd!

1. * These words are all appropriated to music, and will be published separately by Messrs. Willis and Co.