UNDER THE WILLOW TREE.(SONG.)
NDER the willow tree lay her,Where night-tears evermore weep,
As they fall on a young girl's pillow—
Death's bride in her peaceful sleep.
Nor hang her frail harp on the willow,
Its gold strings loose and unstrung;
The night-wind sobbing around it,
The green leaves and silence among.
Its gold strings loose and unstrung;
The night-wind sobbing around it,
The green leaves and silence among.
But write on her grave this story,
"A harp with its gold strings unstrung;"
Not on the green bough we'll leave it,
For ne'er on the willow it hung.
"A harp with its gold strings unstrung;"
Not on the green bough we'll leave it,
For ne'er on the willow it hung.
But shattered—buried for ever,
Strains once so wild and so mellow;
We shall hear them never again,
She sleeps safe under the willow.
Strains once so wild and so mellow;
We shall hear them never again,
She sleeps safe under the willow.
