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Pages 313-315
THE LAST WISH.
Go to the forest shade;
Seek thou the well-known glade
Where, heavy with sweet dew, the violets lie,
Gleaming through moss-tufts deep,
Like dark eyes filled with sleep,
And bathed in hues of summer's midnight sky.
Bring me their buds, to shed
Around my dying bed,
A breath of May, and of the wood's repose;
For I, in sooth, depart
With a reluctant heart,
That fain would linger where the bright sun glows.
Fain would I stay with thee,—
Alas! this must not be;
Yet bring me still the gifts of happier hours!
Go where the fountain's breast
Catches, in glassy rest,
The dim green light that pours through laurel bowers.
