| |
| UNDER the violets, blue and sweet, | |
| Where low the willow droops and weeps, | |
| Where children tread with timid feet, | |
| When twilight o’er the forest creeps, | |
| She sleeps,—my little darling sleeps. | 5 |
| |
| Breathe low and soft, O wind! breathe low | |
| Where so much loveliness is laid! | |
| Pour out thy heart in strains of woe, | |
| O bird! that in the willows’ shade | |
| Sing’st till the stars do pale and fade. | 10 |
| |
| It may be that to other eyes, | |
| As in the happy days of old, | |
| The sun doth every morning rise | |
| O’er mountain summits tipped with gold, | |
| And set where sapphire seas are rolled; | 15 |
| |
| But I am so hedged round with woe, | |
| This glory I no more can see. | |
| O weary heart, that throbbest so, | |
| Thou hast but this one wish,—to be | |
| A little dust beneath the tree. | 20 |
| |
| I would thou hadst thy wish to-day, | |
| And we were lying side by side | |
| With her who took our life away | |
| That heavy day whereon she died. | |
| O Grave! I would thy gates were wide. | 25 |
| |
