Page:Felicia Hemans in The Winter's Wreath 1829.pdf/4



me upon thy faithful heart,
 * Keep back my flitting breath;

'Tis early, early to depart,
 * Sweet friend!—yet this is Death!

Look on me still:—let that kind eye
 * Be the last light I see!

Oh! sad it is in spring to die,
 * But yet I die for thee!

For thee, my own!—thy stately head
 * Was never thus to bow;—

Give tears when with me Love hath fled,
 * True Love—thou know'st it now!

Oh! the free streams look’d bright, where'er
 * We in our gladness rov'd;

And the blue skies were very fair—
 * Dear friend! because we lov'd.

Farewell!—I bless thee!—live thou on,
 * When this young heart is low!

Surely my blood thy life hath won—
 * Clasp me once more—I go!