Page:Scenes and Hymns of Life.pdf/34

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Bring me thy flowers, dear Jessy! Ah! thy step, Well do I see, hath not alone explored The garden bowers, but freely visited Our wilder haunts. This foam-like meadow-sweet Is from the cool green shadowy river nook, Where the stream chimes around th' old mossy stones With sounds like childhood's laughter. Is that spot Lovely as when our glad eyes hail'd it first? Still doth the golden willow bend, and sweep The clear brown wave with every passing wind? And thro' the shallower waters, where they lie Dimpling in light, do the vein'd pebbles gleam Like bedded gems? And the white butterflies, From shade to sun-streak are they glancing still Among the poplar boughs?

Jessy.All, all is there Which glad midsummer's wealthiest hours can bring; All, save the soul of all, thy lightening smile! Therefore I stood in sadness 'midst the leaves, And caught an under-music of lament