A THOUGHT OF PARADISE.
203
Oh! no—thy sunny hours
Might come with blossom showers,
All thy young leaves to spirit lyres might thrill;
But we—should we not bring
Into thy realms of spring
The shadows of our souls to haunt us still?
What could thy flowers and airs
Do for our earth-born cares?
Would the world's chain melt off and leave us free?
No!—past each living stream,
Still would some fever dream
Track the lorn wanderers, meet no more for thee!
Should we not shrink with fear,
If angel steps were near,
Feeling our burdened souls within us die?
How might our passions brook
The still and searching look,
The star-like glance of seraph purity?
