Address to the Evening Primrose


Joanna Baillie

The sun declines; his parting ray

Shall bear the cheerful light away,

And on the landscape close:

Then will I seek the lonely vale,

Where sober ev'ning's primrose pale,

To greet the night-star, blows.

Soft, melancholy bloom! to thee

I turn with conscious sympathy;

Like thee, my hour is come:

When length'ning shadows slowly fade,

Till, lost in universal shade,

They sink beneath the tomb.

By thee I'll sit, and inly muse

What are the charms in life we lose

When time demands our breath:

Alas! the load of ling'ring age

Has little that can hope engage,

Or point the shaft of death.

No! 'tis the pang alone to part

From those we love, that rends the heart;

That agony to save

Some nameless pow'r in nature strives;

Our fading hope in death revives,

And blossoms on the grave.

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