FABLE XXIII.
The FUNERAL FLOWERS.
I.
AS, lonely walking o’er the plain,
With solemn step and slow,
A hapless swain, at midnight hour,
Went forth to vent his woe;
II.
His hand the sweetest flow’rets fill’d
That glow’d with beauty’s bloom;
Now destin’d with their richest tints
T’ adorn his Laura’s tomb.
III.
Lo! there each mournful flow’r he strew’d,
Which vernal Flora bears;
With frequent sighs dispers’d them round,
And water’d them with tears.
IV.
There was the Vi’let’s purple hue,
And Hyacinthus seen;
The leaves with monarch’s names inscrib’d,
And plaintive notes between.
V.
Sweet Rosemary, and many a plant
In Eastern gardens known;
And Lover’s Myrtle, which the Queen
Of Beauty deigns to own.
VI.
A Sage, who wander’d there alone
In the dank dews of night,
To gather plants of mystic pow’r,
Beneath the moon’s pale light,
VII.
With scornful smile, and eye askance,
The hapless youth survey’d;
Who paid the last sad tribute there
To the departed maid.
VIII.
“And what! (said he) shall those sweet flow’rs,
“Which sinking life can save,
“And plants of aromatic scent,
“Adorn a dreary grave?
IX.
“For shame, fond youth! learn Nature’s gifts
“With better skill to prize.
“Attend her precepts; read them here:
“Be frugal, and be wise.”
X.
He ceas’d; the sighing youth reply’d,
“To Laura’s shade I give,
“Unblam’d, each emblematic flow’r,
“Which she first taught to live.
XI.
“And frequent here fair Flora’s train
“Uncull’d by me shall bloom;
“And, nurs’d by bright Aurora’s tears,
“Diffuse their rich perfume.
XII.
“Then urge me not, with narrow mind,
“To wrong the dust below;
“But rather THOU expand thy heart,
“And gen’rous tears bestow.”
XIII.
Thus as he spoke, the Redbreast mild,
The friend of human-kind,
Wide scatter’d leaves o’er the low mound,
And on the turf reclin’d.
XIV.
While Philomel with plaintive notes
Funereal dirges sung
O’er Laura’s tomb, who oft’ in life
Had mourn’d her ravish’d young.
XV.
And vain (she sang) was Wisdom’s lore,
That taught the heart to hide;
And vain the empty idle boast
Of Philosophic Pride.
XVI.
The flow’rs more sweetly seem’d to smile
Reviving at her lay;
And sweeter scent, and fresher green,
The swelling leaves display.
XVII.
The Sage stood check’d, the solemn song
Such virtue could impart;
He dropp’d a tear, to pity due,
That humaniz’d the heart.
XVIII.
The “graceful softness of the soul”
He learn’d thenceforth to prize;
And own’d, where Nature touch’d the Heart,
’Twas Folly to be wise.