Page:Felicia Hemans in Forget Me Not 1827.pdf/6



Is not your world a mournful one, When your sisters close their eyes, And your soft breath meets not a lingering tone Of song in the starry skies?

Take ye no joy in the dayspring's birth, When it kindles the sparks of dew? And the thousand strains of the forest's mirth, Shall they gladden all but you?

Shut your sweet bells till the fawn comes out On the sunny turf to play, And the woodland child, with a fairy shout, Goes dancing on his way.

Nay, let our shadowy beauty bloom When the stars give quiet light; And let us offer our faint perfume On the silent shrine of night.

Call it not wasted, the scent we lend To the breeze when no step is nigh; Oh! thus for ever the earth should send Her grateful breath on high!

And love us as emblems, night's dewy flowers, Of hopes unto sorrow given, That spring through the gloom of the darkest hours, Looking alone to Heaven!