27.12.2010, 17:26
MINNIE AND HER DOVE
Two days she miss'd her dove, and then, alas !
A knot of soft gray feathers met her view,
So Hght, their stirring hardly broke the dew
That hung on the blue violets and the grass ;
A kite had struck her fondling as he pass'd ;
And o'er that fleeting, downy, epitaph
The poor child linger'd, weeping ; her gay laugh
Was mute that day, her little heart o'ercast.
Ah ! Minnie, if thou livest, thou wilt prove
Intenser pangs—less tearful, though less brief;
Thou'lt weep for dearer death and sweeter love.
And spiritual woe, of woes the chief,
Until the full-grown wings of human grief
Eclipse thy memory of the kite and dove.
Two days she miss'd her dove, and then, alas !
A knot of soft gray feathers met her view,
So Hght, their stirring hardly broke the dew
That hung on the blue violets and the grass ;
A kite had struck her fondling as he pass'd ;
And o'er that fleeting, downy, epitaph
The poor child linger'd, weeping ; her gay laugh
Was mute that day, her little heart o'ercast.
Ah ! Minnie, if thou livest, thou wilt prove
Intenser pangs—less tearful, though less brief;
Thou'lt weep for dearer death and sweeter love.
And spiritual woe, of woes the chief,
Until the full-grown wings of human grief
Eclipse thy memory of the kite and dove.