Classic Poem

Sweet balmy Hour! — dear to the pensive mind,
— Oft have I watch'd thy dark and weeping shade,
— Oft have I hail'd thee in the dewy glade,
And drop'd a tear of Sympathy refin'd.

When humming bees, hid in their golden bow'rs,
— Sip the pure nectar of May's blushing rose,
— Or faint with noon-day toils, their limbs repose,
In Baths of Essence stol'n from sunny flow'rs.

Oft do I seek thy shade dear with'ring tree,
— Sad emblem of my own disast'rous state;
Doom'd in the spring of life, alas! like thee
— To fade, and droop beneath the frowns of Fate;
Like thee, may Heaven to me the meed bestow,
To shelter Sorrow's tear, and sooth the Child of Woe.

Sweet balmy Hour! — dear to the pensive mind,
— Oft have I watch'd thy dark and weeping shade,
— Oft have I hail'd thee in the dewy glade,
And drop'd a tear of Sympathy refin'd.

When humming bees, hid in their golden bow'rs,
— Sip the pure nectar of May's blushing rose,
— Or faint with noon-day toils, their limbs repose,
In Baths of Essence stol'n from sunny flow'rs.

Oft do I seek thy shade dear with'ring tree,
— Sad emblem of my own disast'rous state;
Doom'd in the spring of life, alas! like thee
— To fade, and droop beneath the frowns of Fate;
Like thee, may Heaven to me the meed bestow,
To shelter Sorrow's tear, and sooth the Child of Woe.