THE ROSE IN THE BURIAL-GROUND.

Daily Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 37, 30 December 1843, Page 4

THE ROSE IN THE BURIAL-GROUND.

Meekly thou bend'at thy lowly head To airs that lingering breathe around, And shedd'st thy sweetness o'er the dead, Thy tears on holy ground ; And, longing for the blessed light, Dost chide the tardiness of night ! Where the serene are lying low— The brave their last lone bed have madeHow passing beautiful art thou, la silence and in shade, Thou type of fond remembrance — set O'er one whom memory treasures yet ! Thou speak'st of long-lost memories — Of pleasure, in her golden noon, Of hopes that blossotn'd to the skies, And witlier'd all too soon ; Of the deep anguish of the soul — The shatter'd wheel, tho broken bowl. And gentler thoughts than these — oh ! yea, The sigh of love, the tear of grief Shed o'er thee ; with the tender kiss Imprinted on thy leaf ; The heart's best blessings — though the grave May close on them we cannot save. An only sister may have brought Thee in thy simple beauty here ; Perchance a sorrowing mother sought Her lost child's lowly bier ; She loved him — and she wished to prove To others how intense that love. It may be that he sleeps, whose nanae, Bright and unsullied, blameless, free, Might have descended on the stream Of years to immortality. Enough — the final die is cast ; The dream, the aspiration past ! It matters not ; the ciowd shall pass Thee by unheeded ; with the wane And rise of moons, the long lank grass Shall wreathe the stone again ; And other hearts shall mourn their woes, Even where the good aod great repose ! William Sinclair.