166
AZLEA.
Earth is swiftly, dimly fleeting,
Time my funeral march is beating—
Life and death a spectral meeting
Holding o'er the bier;
Wo is me! is there no waking?
Utter has been my forsaking,
On this joyless sphere.
One by one life's chords have broken,
Giving to my heart the token,
Clear and fearful, though unspoken,
Of its wasted strength;
Now the last frail tie hath parted—
To the goal from whence it started,
Life returns at length.
Oh, how wildly hath it striven,
Till the spirit, crushed and riven,
Waited, grieving, for the heaven
Of the loved and lost;
Dreamy visions o'er me stealing,
Close the avenues of feeling—
Life and grief are past!
[Dies.
