One bough, with pearly blossoms drest,
And bind it, mother! on my breast!
Go, seek the grove along the shore,
Whose odours I must breathe no more;
The grove where every scented tree
Thrills to the deep voice of the sea.
Oh! Love’s fond sighs, and fervent prayer,
And wild farewell, are lingering there:
Each leaf’s light whisper hath a tone
My faint heart, even in death, would own.