No IX.
The Elm Trees.
Oh ! may these trees be ever green,1
Perpetual spring enwreathe them,2
May bloom on every bough be seen,3
And lovely flowers beneath them !4
Be fresh each leaf, be strong each form ;5
No biting winds impair them ;6
And may the red wing of the storm7
Pass ever by, and spare them !8
’Twas here, in boyhood, that I strayed,9
When not a care molested ;10
With her I loved, beneath this shade,11
On summer eves, I rested.12
I feel those years revive again,13
So sweet and far departed—14
Ah ! thoughts like these are worse than vain,15
They mock the broken-hearted !16
It is a melancholy scene,17
To view the woodlands yellow,18
And Winter’s snow, where late serene19
Waved Autumn’s harvests mellow :20
But ’tis a more desponding truth,21
To feel that we must sever22
From all that gave delight to youth,23
Despairing, and for ever ! ,24
As in a mirror, vanish’d years25
This well-known view is raising ;26
With lightning glow the past appears,27
As thoughtful I am gazing !28
May no rude hands this spot deform ;29
No biting winds impair it ;30
And may the red wing of the storm31
Pass ever by, and spare it !32