And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
``“They are gone.”
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has prest
``In their bloom,
(“AS HE TOTTERS O'ER THE GROUND WITH HIS CANE.”)
(“IN HIS PRIME.”)
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.=
(“THE PRUNING-KNIFE OF TIME”)
My grandmamma has said,
Poor old lady, she is dead
``Long ago,--
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow.=
(“MY GRANDMAMMA HAS SAID.”)
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
``Like a staff,
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
``In his laugh.=
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
``At him here;
(“BY THE CRIER ON HIS ROUND.”)
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
``Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
``In the spring,--
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
``Where I cling
(“THE MOSSY MARBLES REST”)
(“THE LIPS THAT HE HAS PREST.”)
*****
*****
THE STAR AND THE WATER-LILY.
|The sun stepped down from his golden throne,
`And lay in the silent sea,
And the Lily had folded her satin leaves,
`For a sleepy thing was she;=
What is the Lily dreaming of?
`Why crisp the waters blue?
See, see, she is lifting her varnished lid!
`Her white leaves are glistening through!
The Rose is cooling his burning cheek
`In the lap of the breathless tide;--
The Lily hath sisters fresh and fair,
`That would lie by the Rose's side;=
He would love her better than all the rest,
`And he would be fond and true;--
But the Lily unfolded her weary lids,
`And looked at the sky so blue.=
Remember, remember, thou silly one,
`How fast will thy Summer glide,
And wilt thou wither a virgin pale,
`Or flourish a blooming bride?=
“O the Rose is old, and thorny, and cold,
`And he lives on earth,” said she;
“But the Star is fair and he lives in the air.
`And he shall my bridegroom be.”=
But what if the stormy cloud should come,
`And ruffle the silver sea?
Would he turn his eye from the distant sky,
`To smile on a thing like thee?=
O no, fair Lily, he will not send
`One ray from his far-off throne;
The winds shall blow and the waves shall flow,
`And thou wilt be left alone.=
There is not a leaf on the mountain top,
`Nor a drop of evening dew,
Nor a golden sand on the sparkling shore,
`Nor a pearl in the waters blue,
That he has not cheered with his fickle smile,
`And warmed with his faithless beam,--
And will he be true to a pallid flower,
`That floats on the quiet stream?=
Alas for the Lily! she would not heed,
`But turned to the skies afar.
And bared her breast to the trembling ray
That shot from the rising star;=
The cloud came over the darkened sky,
`And over the waters wide:
She looked in vain through the beating rain,
`And sank in the stormy tide.=