|
THEY'LL come once more—the soft, warm breezes blowing,
From southern lands, lying far, far away;
Wakening the earth from its cold trance, and strewing
Bright gems of beauty all along our way.
They'll come once more—the green trees, gently waving
With graceful motion as the wind sweeps by;
And noiselessly their pendent branches laying
In sparkling waters that beneath them lie.
They'll come once more—a thousand flowers upspringing,
On every hill-side and in every dell;
The gentle winds a sweet, rich odor bringing
From the blue violet and the purple bell.
They'll come once more—the birds, with music thrilling,
Ere long will gladden earth and sky again:
E'en now I hear a little blue-bird trilling
A sweet, soft prelude to the summer's strain.
They'll come once more—bright flowers and music swelling,
Leaves on the spray, and grass-blades on the hill;
Yet will be tear-drops from our hearts upwelling—
Deep, earnest longings in our bosoms still!
But, oh! they'll come no more—the friends we cherished,
Around whose hearts our own heart-tendrils twined;
With autumn flowers those loved ones drooped and perished,
And their bright dwelling who of us can find?
They'll come no more—the dreams of life's young morning—
Those fairy dreams that lit with joy the eye—
They faded from our hearts like stars at dawning
Or like the rainbow passing from the sky.
They'll come no more—that sweet, yet earnest feeling,
That boundless trust in friends that once was ours;
But doubts, suspicions o'er our spirits stealing,
Come like a serpent gliding mid the flowers.
They'll come no more, no more—those hopes that lightened
Our transient sorrows in our childhood years;
Those blessed dreams that, like the rainbow, brightened
Each cloud of grief and chased away our tears.
They'll come no more—our youthful dreams departed—
Our bright hopes dimmed—our trust in others flown;
The friends we loved who left us weary-hearted,
To tread life's darkened pathway sad and lone.
They'll come no more—yes, with our spirit vision,
We gaze far, far away to realms above:
There, there, mid sacred groves and fields Elysian,
They'll come once more—friends, bright hopes, faith, and love!
|
