Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/244

 228 PLANTING FLOWERS

And call'd it blessed thus to grow

So near my precious dead. And when my venturous path shall be

Across the deep, blue sea, I bade it in its beauty rise

And guard that spot for me.

There was no other child, my dead !

To do this deed for thee, Mother ! no other nursling babe

Ere sat upon thy knee, And, Father ! that endearing name

No other lips than mine Ere breath 'd to prompt thy hallow'd prayer

At morn or eve's decline.

Tear not those flowers, thou idle child,

Tear not the flowers that wave, In sweet and holy sanctity,

To deck my parents' grave, Lest guardian angels from the skies,

That watch amid the gloom, Should dart reproachful ire on those

Who desecrate the tomb.

��And spare to pluck my sacred plants, Ye groups that wander nigh,

�� �