MOURN NOT THE DEPARTED.
151
MOURN NOT THE DEPARTED.
Weep not, weep not, for the long cherished flower!
The fresh dews of morning will vanish ere noon;
The star that shines brightest at midnight's dark hour,
Will fade in the distance full soon;
Our own hopes grow sad as the sere autumn leaf,
And gladness gives place to the winter of grief.
The fresh dews of morning will vanish ere noon;
The star that shines brightest at midnight's dark hour,
Will fade in the distance full soon;
Our own hopes grow sad as the sere autumn leaf,
And gladness gives place to the winter of grief.
Why mourn for the young and the loved one departed?
Why weep for the blossom you cherished with care?
Earth cannot boast of a maid so light-hearted,
That no traces of sorrow are there.
We look on the lips and the smiles that enwreath,
And see not the heart that is fainting beneath.
Why weep for the blossom you cherished with care?
Earth cannot boast of a maid so light-hearted,
That no traces of sorrow are there.
We look on the lips and the smiles that enwreath,
And see not the heart that is fainting beneath.
Then mourn not for her, who has gone ere the power
Of sorrow could bow to the earth her fair head;
Let memory hover around the young flower,
And speak of the beautiful dead.
Let her in the sleep of serenity rest—
For earth hath no care that can sadden her breast.
Of sorrow could bow to the earth her fair head;
Let memory hover around the young flower,
And speak of the beautiful dead.
Let her in the sleep of serenity rest—
For earth hath no care that can sadden her breast.
