All things are new ;- the buds, the leaves, That gild the elm-tree's nodding crest, And even the nest beneath the eaves; There are no birds in last year's nest! All things rejoice in youth and love, And learn from the soft heavens above Maiden, that read'st this simple rhyme, Enjoy the Spring of Love and Youth, To some good angel leave the rest; For Time will teach thee soon the truth, There are no birds in last year's nest ! THE RAINY DAY. THE day is cold, and dark, and dreary; And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; And the days are dark and dreary. Be still, sad heart! and cease repining; Thy fate is the common fate of all, Some days must be dark and dreary. GOD'S-ACRE. I LIKE that ancient Saxon phrase, which calls It consecrates each grave within its walls, And breathes a benison o'er the sleeping dust. God's-Acre! Yes, that blessed name imparts Comfort to those, who in the grave have sown The seed, that they had garnered in their hearts, Their bread of life, alas! no more their own. Into its furrows shall we all be cast, In the sure faith, that we shall rise again At the great harvest, when the arch-angel's blast Shall winnow, like a fan, the chaff and grain. Then shall the good stand in immortal bloom, With that of flowers, which never bloomed on earth. With thy rude ploughshare, Death, turn up the sod, And spread the furrow for the seed we sow; This is the field and Acre of our God, This is the place, where human harvests grow! |