| |
| GIVE not to me the wreath of green— | |
| The blooming vase of flowers;— | |
| They breathe of joy that once hath been;— | |
| Of gone and faded hours!— | |
| I cannot love the rose, though rich— | 5 |
| Its beauty will not last;— | |
| Give me, give me the bloom, o’er which | |
| The early blight hath pass’d; | |
| The yellow buds—give them to rest, | |
| On my cold brow and joyless breast, | 10 |
| Where life is failing fast! | |
| |
| Take far from me the wine-cup bright, | |
| In hours of revelry; | |
| It suits glad brows, and bosoms light— | |
| It is not meet for me; | 15 |
| Oh, I can pledge the heart no more | |
| I pledged in days gone by; | |
| Sorrow hath touch’d my bosom’s core, | |
| And I am left to die; | |
| Give me to drink of Lethe’s wave— | 20 |
| Give me the lone and silent grave, | |
| O’er which the night-winds sigh! | |
| |
| Wake not, upon my tuneless ear | |
| Soft music’s stealing strain; | |
| It cannot soothe—it cannot cheer | 25 |
| My anguish’d heart again: | |
| But place the Æolian harp upon | |
| The tomb of her, I love;— | |
| There, when heaven shrouds the dying sun, | |
| My weary steps will rove, | 30 |
| As o’er its chords night pours its breath, | |
| To list the serenade of death, | |
| Her silent bourne above! | |
| |
| Give me to seek the lonely tomb, | |
| Where sleeps the sainted dead, | 35 |
| Now the pale nightfall throws its gloom | |
| Above the narrow bed; | |
| There, while the winds which sweep along, | |
| O’er the harp-strings are driven, | |
| And the funereal soul of song | 40 |
| Upon the air is given; | |
| Oh let my faint and parting breath | |
| Be mingled with that song of death, | |
| And flee with it to heaven! | |
| |
