Blair Collection > Poems and songs

THE LONE MAIDEX. 31
THE LONE MAIDEX.
Your liistoiy, oh, transient flowers of earth !
Is beautiful and brief;
Oft whilst your buds are in their early birth
Pale death assails the leaf.
Even so has passed away my joyous dream ;
There is nought remaining now
But the shaded light tliat its golden gleam
Has left upon my brow.
And the sore pain that, like a wearied steed,
Would fain lie down to sleep.
Whilst memory maddens it anew to speed,
Planting her rowels deep.
Speed on, mad pain, and beat thou down the heart —
The brow can still be calm ;
Though memory often acts a cruel part,
She gives me soothing balm.
For all that she to my soul recalls
Of those dear bygone hours
Is pure as the taintless dew that f:ills
Upon the silent flowers.
It is not conscience gives the aching wound
That crimsons thus my vest ;
I'd rather treadmg on the thorns be found.
Than plant them in my breast.
O'er tliem I followed duty's cheerless iace
With feet that sorely bled,
Whilst love w^as beckoning with a winning grace,
To where her flowers were spread.
"Tis hard the gift that gold could not have bought
Was lavished in vain,
Tis bliss to know my soul without a blot,
My hand without a stain.