POEMS.
7
And they longed to feel the evening breeze
Steal o'er them, and they sighed
For their slighted home beneath the trees,
In the stately forest wide.
A still small voice first whispered then,
That they had happier been
In the leafy shades of the peaceful glen
Than in that brilliant scene.
And the flowers bent down their heads and wept,
For their hearts were full of woe,
When they thought how calmly they had slept
The moon's pale light below.
Steal o'er them, and they sighed
For their slighted home beneath the trees,
In the stately forest wide.
A still small voice first whispered then,
That they had happier been
In the leafy shades of the peaceful glen
Than in that brilliant scene.
And the flowers bent down their heads and wept,
For their hearts were full of woe,
When they thought how calmly they had slept
The moon's pale light below.
Dark night is giving place to day,
The morn begins to break,
And the lovely lady hastes away
Ere the sun's bright rays awake.
But the flowers that late had graced her brow
Are thrown neglected by;
Their bloom is past, they are faded now,
They are left alone to die.
To die uncared for, far away
From their own sweet forest glen,
What visions of its life so gay,
Came rushing o'er them then!
"Oh would! oh would that we were there
In our home of beauty bright,
Near the leaves that watched us with such care,
And sheltered us each night.
The morn begins to break,
And the lovely lady hastes away
Ere the sun's bright rays awake.
But the flowers that late had graced her brow
Are thrown neglected by;
Their bloom is past, they are faded now,
They are left alone to die.
To die uncared for, far away
From their own sweet forest glen,
What visions of its life so gay,
Came rushing o'er them then!
"Oh would! oh would that we were there
In our home of beauty bright,
Near the leaves that watched us with such care,
And sheltered us each night.
