The thirsty Salix bending o'er the stream,
Its boughs as banners waving to the breeze.
The pastoral poet Rowe places his despairing Shepherd under Silken Willows. Thus he sings—(we will give the chorus in the first verse, and not repeat it, as it would occupy too much space):
To the brook and the Willow that heard him complain,
Ah, Willow, Willow;
Poor Colin sat weeping, and told them his pain;
Ah, Willow, Willow; ah, Willow, Willow.
Sweet stream, he cry'd sadly, I'll teach thee to flow,
And the waters shall rise to the brink with my woe.
All restless and painful poor Amoret lies,
And counts the sad moments of time as it flies.
To the nymph my heart loves, ye soft slumbers repair,
Spread your downy wings o'er her, and make her your care.
Dear brook, were thy chance near her pillow to creep,
Perhaps thy soft murmurs might lull her to sleep.
Let me be kept waking, my eyes never close,
So the sleep that I lose brings my fair-one repose.
But if I am doom'd to be wretched indeed;
If the loss of my dear-one, my love is decreed;
If no more my sad heart by those eyes shall be cheered;
If the voice of my warbler no more shall be heard;
Believe me, thou fair-one; thou dear-one believe,
Few sighs to thy loss, and few tears will I give.
One fate to thy Colin and thee shall be ty'd,
And soon lay thy shepherd close by thy cold side.
Then run, gentle brook; and to lose thyself, haste;
Fade thou, too, my Willow; this verse is my last.
Chatterton, in one of his songs, has the following lines:
Mie love ys dedde,
Gon to ys deathe-bedde,
Al under the Wyllowe-tree.
In Ovid we read of
A hollow vale, where watery torrents gush,
Sinks in the plain; the osier, and the rush,
The marshy sedge and bending Willow nod
Their trailing foliage o'er its oozy sod.
And Churchill speaks of
The Willow weeping o'er the fatal wave,
Where many a lover finds a watery grave.
Shakspeare introduces it in Hamlet, where he describes the place of Ophelia's death: