Page:Hemans Miscellaneous Poetry 5.pdf/8



It is written on the trees As their young leaves glistening play; And on brighter things than these— "Passing away."

It is written on the brow Where the spirit's ardent ray Lives, burns, and triumphs now— "Passing away."

It is written on the heart— Alas! that there decay Should claim from love a part! "Passing away."

Friends, friends! oh! shall we meet Where the spoiler finds no prey, Where lovely things and sweet Pass not away?

Shall we know each other's eyes, With the thoughts that in them lay, When they meet within the skies Which pass away?

Oh! if this may be so, Speed, speed their closing day! How blest, from earth's vain show! To pass away!