UNDER THE WILLOW TREE.(SONG.)
NDER the willow tree lay her, Where night-tears evermore weep,As they fall on a young girl's pillow— Death's bride in her peaceful sleep.Nor hang her frail harp on the willow, Its gold strings loose and unstrung;The night-wind sobbing around it, The green leaves and silence among.
But write on her grave this story, "A harp with its gold strings unstrung;"Not on the green bough we'll leave it, For ne'er on the willow it hung.
But shattered—buried for ever, Strains once so wild and so mellow;We shall hear them never again, She sleeps safe under the willow.
