From the Greek
Alas! the mallows, when along the dale
They fade and perish—when the parsley pale
And the bright-leaved anethus droops—once more
These live, and bloom in beauty, as before.
But we—the wise, the warlike, and the great,
Wither beneath the touch of death—and straight
Sleep, deaf within the hollow earth, a sleep
Eternal, without dreams, and deep.
SONNET .
Thus sung the ancient bard of Sicily,
The shepherd poet—as he wandered forth,
And saw the flowers of summer droop and die,
Under the touch of the malignant north,
Rare visitant of that unclouded sky.
And yet he knew, each semivital flower
Was watched by nature's God, and clothed in sleep
By the wise tenderness of sovran power,
That it might live—What demon whispered there?
What charms, and hellish drugs conspired to steep
The poet's heart, in darkness and despair?
How dull a thought! that God, whose love can bless
They fade and perish—when the parsley pale
And the bright-leaved anethus droops—once more
These live, and bloom in beauty, as before.
But we—the wise, the warlike, and the great,
Wither beneath the touch of death—and straight
Sleep, deaf within the hollow earth, a sleep
Eternal, without dreams, and deep.
SONNET .
Thus sung the ancient bard of Sicily,
The shepherd poet—as he wandered forth,
And saw the flowers of summer droop and die,
Under the touch of the malignant north,
Rare visitant of that unclouded sky.
And yet he knew, each semivital flower
Was watched by nature's God, and clothed in sleep
By the wise tenderness of sovran power,
That it might live—What demon whispered there?
What charms, and hellish drugs conspired to steep
The poet's heart, in darkness and despair?
How dull a thought! that God, whose love can bless
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