Classic Poem

1

When smiling skies unkindly grow
The stricken streams, forbid to flow,
No more that faithless heaven reflect
Which all their sparkling mirth has checked,
Be thou, my heart, like frozen streams,
Since Love for thee no longer beams;
Oh! let thy trembling motion sleep,
Nor still one treach'rous image keep.

2

These tender flowers, now Eve draws on,
Though wide dispread in light they shone,
Like drowsy eyes by slumber prest,
Slow folding nod in dewy rest.
But I, a rose too quickly blown,
Must fall, hue, form and fragrance flown;
This heart, once opened, ne'er can close,
Ne'er find, in Love's chill night, repose.

The garden's pride, that blooms so bright,
When rills are dancing,
Spreads not a petal to the light
From snow plains glancing:
Ah! lavish rose, why all bestow
On summer breezes? —
Away to find fresh flow'rs they go,
When here it freezes.