Strewn by the wintry winds o’er the dark mould!
Smilers, when sunlight stole through the soft hours,
Down from yon azure their leaves to unfold.
Bright were their beauties when breezes swept on
O’er the blue waters to gather perfume;
Whisperers lovely, now faded and gone!
Slumberers lonely ’mid dullness and gloom!
Oh! but the Spring-time will come o’er the plain
Wooing the whispering blossoms again,
With its soft tread o’er the emerald lawn—