Richmond Enquirer

(From the New Monthly Magazine.)

THE NIGHTINGALE'S DEATH SONG.

BY MRS. HEMANS.

"Whilst thou ask'st the nightingales,
Die mit seelenvollen melodie
Dich entzuckten in des Lenzes Tagen?
Nur so lang sie liebten, waren sie."
SCHILLER.

Mournfully, sing mournfully,
And die away, my heart!
The rose, the glorious rose is gone,
And I too will depart.

The skies have lost their splendour,
The waters changed their tone,
And wherefore, in the faded world
Should music linger on?

Where is the golden sunshine,
And where the flower-cup's glow?
And where the joy of the dancing leaves,
And the fountain's laughing flow?

A voice in every whisper
Of the wave, the bough, the air,
Comes asking for the beautiful,
And moaning—"Where, oh! where?"

Tell of the brightness parted,
Thou Bee, thou Lamb at play!
Thou Lark in thy victorious mirth!
Are ye, too, pass'd away?

Mournfully, sing mournfully!
The royal Rose is gone:
Melt from the woods, my spirit melt,
In one deep farewell tone!

Not so!—swell forth triumphantly
The full, rich, fervent strain!
Hence with young Love and Life I go;
In the Summer's joyous train.

With sunshine, with sweet odour,
With every precious thing,
Upon the last warm southern breeze,
My soul its flight shall wing.

Alone I shall not linger
When the days of hope are past,
To watch the fall of leaf by leaf,
To wait the rushing blast.

Triumphantly, triumphantly,
Sing to the woods, I go!
For me perchance in other lands
The glorious rose may blow.

The sky's transparent azure,
And the greenwood's violet breath,
And the dance of light leaves in the wind,
May these know nought of Death.

No more, no more sing mournfully!
Swell high, then break, my heart!
With Love, the Spirit of the Woods,
With Summer I depart!