Poetry Archives

She pass’d away like morning dew
  Before the sun was high;
So brief her time, she scarcely knew
  The meaning of a sigh.

As round the rose its soft perfume,
  Sweet love around her floated;
Admired she grew—while mortal doom
  Crept on, unfear’d, unnoted.

Love was her guardian Angel here,
  But Love to Death resign’d her;
Tho’ Love was kind, why should we fear
  But holy Death is kinder?