Oh! in the blue-bird’s shape descend,
When broad magnolias shut their leaves!
With evening airs thy lisping blend,
And watch the tomb thy mother weaves!
I’ve marked the lily’s silken vest,
When winds blew fresh and sunbeams shine
On Mississippi’s furrowed breast,
By many a watery wreath entwined.
But soon they rippled down the stream,
To lave the stranger’s distant shore;