I Grieve For Life's Bright

The Hushed Winds Their Sabbath Keep.

And We Wept That One So Lovely Should Have A Life So Brief.

And Kind The Voice And Glad The Eyes That Welcome My Return At Night.

Ah! Never Shall The Land Forget.

The Windflower And The Violet, They Perished Long Ago, And The Brier-rose And The Orchis Died Amid The Summer Glow; But On The Hills The Golden-rod, And The Aster In The Wood, And The Yellow Sunflower By The Brook, In Autumn Beauty Stood, Till Fell The First From The Clear Cold Heaven, As Falls The Plague On Men, And The Brightness Of Their Smile Was Gone, From Upland Glade And Glen.