Thou hast passed from life, and thou knowest it not;
The light is quenched in thine eyes, I wot;
Thy rose-red mouth, it is wan and sere,
And thou art dead, my poor dead dear!

One summer night, myself I saw
Thee laid in earth with a shuddering awe;
The nightingales fluted low, dirge-like lays,
And the stars came out on thy bier to gaze.

As the mourning train through the wood defiles,
Their litany peals up the branching aisles;
The pine-trees, in funeral mantles dressed,
Moan prayers for the soul that is gone to rest.

And as by the mountain tarn we wound,
The elves were dancing a fairy round;
They stopped, and they seemed, though startled thus,
With looks of pity to gaze at us.

And when we came to thy lone earth bed,
The moon came down from the heaven o'erhead.
She spoke of the lost one. A sob, a stound!
And the bells in the far-away distance sound.

The orchard grass is sunshine-barred,
And starry-white upon the sward
  The pretty daisies lie;
I rest beneath a mossy tree,
And through its waving branches see
  The sapphire of the sky.

I feel the balmy breeze of May
Soft-blowing down the grassy way,
⁠And in the boughs above
The little birds break into song,
And praise, in thrilling strains and strong,
⁠Spring's halcyon days of love.

The apple-blossoms fall around,
And fleck the daisy-chequered ground
⁠As breezes softly blow;
I stretch a lazy hand aloft,
And grasp a cluster silken-soft,
⁠Like rosy-tinted snow.

I look at every tender leaf,
And marvel why a life so brief,
⁠To such sweet things is given;
Why not for them a longer space
To blossom gaily in their place,
⁠Beneath the summer heaven?

Why not for them a longer time
To feel the sun at morning prime,
⁠To see the moon at night?
To quiver by soft breezes stirred;
To listen when God's morning bird
⁠Sings heavenward his delight?

Ah me, my heart! it must be so,
The blossom drops that fruit may grow,
⁠The sweetness of the flower
Dies early on the vernal breeze,
That autumn-time may bless the trees
⁠With gold and crimson dower.

Ah me; my heart! so must thou see
The flowery hopes that gladden thee,
⁠In this thy morning prime,
Fade in the fair place where they grow,
Drop round thee swiftly like the snow
⁠Of apple-blossom time.

But if they leave thee good and true,
And pure as when they blossomed new,
⁠Then gladly let them go;
Where now these fairy blossoms be,
In God's good time thine eyes shall see
⁠Thy life's fair harvest glow!

Sparkling like a diamond
⁠Beams the daystar in the skies;
Nature, loosed from winter's bond,
⁠Smiles as one in sweet surprise.
⁠Light and life are firm allies;
Hawthorns wear their wedding white,
⁠Pastures show their greenest guise, -
Earth is laughing with delight.

Branches leafy vests have donned,
⁠Buds and blossoms glad the eyes,
Brakes and ferns unfurl the frond,
⁠Daisy-bloom with clover vies;
⁠Sings the runnel as it hies,
Swallows twitter in their flight,
⁠Master rook his pinions tries, —
Earth is laughing with delight.

Tadpoles people pool and pond,
⁠Cushat-calls and coos arise,
Chaffers of the dusk are fond,
⁠All day long the cuckoo cries;
⁠Gauzy insects, butterflies,
Flutter forth to see the sight;
⁠Lo! the bee with saffron thighs, -
Earth is laughing with delight.

Lady, 'tis no time for sighs,
⁠While the world is buoyant, bright;
Love is not a vague surmise, -
⁠Earth is laughing with delight.