Lachaon's Lament.
They bared their bold hearts to the death-thunder's rattle—
But the wild blossom lives, and she comes not again!
But the wild blossom lives, and she comes not again!
I had laid her bright head where the dark willows, leaning
Above the still waters, a dim shadow throw;
And told them of grief—that I knew not its meaning,
For the sun-spirits smile when the beautiful go.
I 'd know, when the snow-flakes were piled on her pillow,
That the stilled heart beneath was as void of a stain;
There are shadows of life that could darken death's billow⤔
And I mourn that she lives, and comes not again.
Above the still waters, a dim shadow throw;
And told them of grief—that I knew not its meaning,
For the sun-spirits smile when the beautiful go.
I 'd know, when the snow-flakes were piled on her pillow,
That the stilled heart beneath was as void of a stain;
There are shadows of life that could darken death's billow⤔
And I mourn that she lives, and comes not again.
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