XVIII.
Yet must the days be long ere time shall steal
Aught from his grief whose spirit dwells with thee:
Once deeply bruised, the heart at length may heal,
But all it was—oh! never more shall be.
The flower, the leaf, o’erwhelm’d by winter snow,
Shall spring again, when beams and showers return,
The faded cheek again with health may glow,
And the dim eye with life’s warm radiance burn;
But the pure freshness of the mind’s young bloom,
Once lost, revives alone in worlds beyond the tomb.