Poems of Letitia Elizabeth Landon (L. E. L.) in The Amulet, 1826/The Cypress
THE CYPRESS.
BY L. E. L.
Thou graceful tree,
With thy green branches drooping,
As to yon blue heaven stooping,
In meek humility.
Like one who patient grieves,
When the fierce wind's o'er thee sweeping,
Thou answerest but by weeping,
While tear-like fall thy green leaves.
When summer flowers have birth,
And the sun is o'er thee shining,
Yet with thy slight boughs declining,
Still thou seekest the earth.
Thy leaves are ever green:
When other trees are changing,
With the seasons o'er them ranging;
Thou art still as thou hast been.
It is not just to thee,
For painter or bard to borrow
Thy emblem as that of Sorrow;
Thou art more like Piety.
Thou wert made to wave,
Patient when Winter winds rave o'er thee,
Lowly when Summer suns restore thee,
On some martyr's grave.
Like that martyr thou hast given
A lesson of faith and meekness,
Of patient strength in thy weakness,
And trust in Heaven!