html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }FLOW’RETS, fresh flow’rets, for a maiden’s grave!
But ah! few flow’rets in the winter bloom;
Spring will return, the leafy branches wave,
But she must moulder in her early tomb.
Few flow’rets bloom ’neath winter’s gloomy sky,
But they are pure and white as winter’s snow,
Meet emblems for pure souls, whose bodies die,
And leave pure memories on earth below.
Through icebound earth their fragile blossoms strive,
Nor can the frosty north their growth o’ercome,
But still like Hopes they spring, that grow and live,
Water’d by tears, beside the lov’d one’s tomb.
Take then these snowdrops, frame a nosegay fair,
That may not shame the hand it should adorn;
The hand and flowers in whiteness may compare,
But sable is the garb of them that mourn.
Darkness divides us oft from those who sleep,
And this we in our vestments would express,
And, like the parted friend for whom we weep,
In darkness we wrap up our tenderness.
Cold sighs the wind, and gloom o’erspreads the sky,
And cold and sad around in heart we mourn,
But, though the snow-clouds gather gloomily,
These promises of Spring are not forlorn:
Nor is our grief forlorn; the sleeping maid,
Though vanquish’d, is assur’d of victory;
Still lives, though all its earthly honours fade,
The precious seed of immortality.
O place the nosegay in her fingers cold,
And o’er the few white flow’rets close them fast!
Yet, ere the winding sheet her form enfold,
O grant another look to be our last!
There lies she like a snow-drop, early ta’en,
And with her must these snow-drops too decay,
But ne’er, like her, will they arise again
Beneath a brighter sun’s enliv’ning ray.
O peaceful slumber! soft and sweet repose!
O heavenly calm upon her features spread!
The living circled live with cares and woes,
But Peace and Silence wait upon the dead.