THE DIRGE OF FLOWERS. 



MRS. HEMANS. 



Bring flowers to the captive's lonely cell, — 

 They have tales of the joyous woods to tell, 

 Of the free blue streams and the glowing sky, 

 And the bright world shut from his languid eye , 

 They will bear him a thought of the sunny hours, 

 And a dream of his youth — bring flowers, wild flowers. 



Bring flowers, fresh flowers, for the bride to wear. 



They were born to blush on her shining hair: 



She is leaving the home of her childish mirth, 



She has bid farewell to her father's hearth. 



Her place is now by another's side; — 



Bring flowers for the locks of the fair young bride. 



Bring flowers, pale flowers, o'er the bier to shed, — 

 A crown for the brow of the early dead. 

 For this through its leaves has the white Rose burst. 

 For this in the woods was the Violet nurst: 

 Though they smile in vain for what once was ours. 

 They are love's last gifl; — bring flowers, pale flowers. 



Bring flowers to the shrine where we kneel in prayer, — 



They are nature's ofl''ring, their place is there: 



They speak of hope to the fainting heart ; 



With the voice of promise they come and part; 



They sleep in dust through the wintry hours ; 



Then break forth in glory : — bring flowers, bright flowers. 



(216) 



