Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 40 1834.pdf/21



Brightly, brightly hast thou fled! Ere one grief had bow'd thy head, Brightly didst thou part; With thy young thoughts free from spot,— With thy fond love wasted not,— With thy bounding heart!

Ne'er by sorrow to be wet, Calmly smiles thy pale cheek yet, Ere by dust o'erspread. Lilies, ne'er by tempest blown,— White-rose, which no stain hath known,— Be about thee shed!

So we give thee to the earth; And the violet shall have birth O'er thy gentle head. Thou, that, like a dew-drop, borne On a sudden wind of morn, Brightly thou hast fled!