The Forest Sanctuary, and Other Poems/Brandenburgh Harvest-Song

by Felicia Hemans

BRANDENBURGH HARVEST-SONG*^[1].

FROM THE GERMAN OF LA MOTTE FOUQUÉ.

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The corn, in golden light,
    Waves o'er the plain;
The sickle's gleam is bright;
    Full swells the grain.

Now send we far around
    Our harvest lay!
—Alas! a heavier sound
    Comes o'er the day!

On every breeze a knell
    The hamlets pour,—
—We know its cause too well,
    She is no more!

Earth shrouds with burial sod
    Her soft eye's blue,—
—Now o'er the gifts of God
    Fall tears like dew!

1. >* For the year of the Queen of Prussia's death.