POETIC FRAGMENTS. FIFTH SERIES.
49
Literary Gazette, 17th December, 1825, Page 812
First.
’Twas Spring, the tree stood by the stream,
With flowers unnumbered hung
Upon the boughs; you scarcely marked
The shade they downward flung.
The leaves have dropt off one by one,
As the wind o'er them strayed;
Of all it flung upon the stream
Only remains the shade.
Oh! heart of mine read here thy fate,
And here thy likeness find;
Thus has life's freshness past away,
Its darkness staid behind.
And worse thy state:—another spring,
Again that tree will be
Green in its youth—but where's the year
That has a spring for thee?[1]
- ↑ signature after last fragment
