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PSYCHE BORNE BY ZEPHYRS.
193
The breezy music wandering
There through the Elysian sky,
Hath no deep tone that seems to float
From a happier time gone by:
And there the day's last crimson
Gives no sad memories birth;
No thought of dead or distant friends,
Or partings—as on earth.
Yet fearfully and mournfully
Thou bidd'st that earth farewell,
Although thou'rt passing, loveliest one,
In a brighter land to dwell.
A land where all is deathless—
The sunny wave's repose,
The wood, with its rich melodies,
The summer and the rose.
