Poems (Terry, 1861)/There

by Rose Terry Cooke

For works with similar titles, see There.

THERE.

 

"La-bas! la-bas! sous la verdure!"

   Oh! if I were buried,
Love, thy sweetness could not leave me,
Nor thy smile, false Hope, deceive me,
Neither joy nor terror grieve me
      There.

   Oh that I were buried!
Grass above mine eyelids growing,
Overhead the wild winds blowing,
Peacefully the slow years flowing,
      There.

   Oh! if I were buried,
Then my heart were filled forever,
Throbbing pulses cease to quiver,
Cooled in rapture's tranquil river,
      There.

   Oh that I were buried!
Never any wearied dreaming,
No more night and no more seeming,
Truth's eternal splendor beaming,
      There.

   Oh! if I were buried,
They who leave me to my sighing,
Would repent above my dying,
But I should not hear their crying
      There.