Classic Poem

BY CHARLES D. DRAKE .

The flower that oft beneath the ray
Of sunlit warmth has bloomed,
Will fade and shrink from life away
If to a dungeon doomed: —
But even here, should chance disclose
Some beam of genial light,
Its head to that the dying rose
Will turn from gloom and night.

The cord that, gently touched, will thrill
With music's softest strain,
If rudely swept, at careless will,
Gives forth no note again;
But still there lingers on the ear
A low, faint, murmuring swell,
As if the tone would yet be near
Where once 'twas wont to dwell.

So from the heart that once has known
Love's impulse and its power,
Though light may be forever flown,
As from the imprisoned flower;
Forever still its gaze will be
Where first was seen its star,
As shipwrecked men on shoreless sea
Yearn to their homes afar:
Still like the bud that, crushed, will yield
Its sweetest fragrance last,
The heart that once to love has kneeled,
Will love though hope be past!