  THE cowslip glowed, the tulip burned, The grass was green as green could be; There, as in sweet content we turned, Beneath the budding linden-tree, We saw the westering sunbeams shake Large glory o’er the mountain lake. The cushat cooed, the blackbird’s cry About the terrace garden rang; Still as we wooed, my love and I, The throstle still enraptured sang, And still the waters danced with glee, Beneath the budding linden-tree. The tulips trembled still with flame, The cowslips gleamed along the walk, Yet, dear one, when the last word came, And silence only seemed to talk, We looked and found the lake was gone, Flowers dim, birds hushed, and one star shone. Beloved! by many an up and down, O’er level lawns, unlevel ways, Through weeds and flowers, when birds had flown And when birds sang, have passed the days Since our new dawn forbade the night; But lo! o’erhead Love’s star is bright. |
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