Forget Me Not/1824/A Poet's Study
< Forget Me Not | 1824
OH! not in ceiled rooms of state,Cumber'd with books the while,Would I the Muse's influence wait,Or there expect her smile.
A nook in some lone churchyard green,Fann'd by the summer breeze—The living and the dead between,Would more my fancy please.
Nor unto Fancy's power aloneShould such a scene appeal;Its sober and its chasten'd toneMy inmost heart would feel.
The moss'd trunk of a scathed treeShould be my only seat;And more than moral tomes to meThat relique should repeat.
E. e. Burney delt.
THE POET'S STUDY
J. S. Agar sculpt. There too, in living, leafy pride,Another tree should grow,Whose writhed branches far and wideTheir welcome shade should throw.
Those boughs, by whisp'ring breezes stirr'd,My canopy should be;And every gentle whisper heardShould tell a tale to me.
A crystal brook should babble by,And to its bord'ring flowersImpart fresh loveliness of dye,And yet more fragrant powers.
Behind me, half conceal'd from sight,As shunning public view,The ivied church-tow'r's humble heightShould greet Heaven's vaulted blue.
A few low grassy mounds should tellWhere slept the silent dead;And there the modest heather-bellShould bend its graceful head.
A guileless infant too should strayWhere those blue flowers might wave,And cull, perchance, a posy gayFrom off a parent's grave.
While o'er her head a butterfly, That type, with beauty crown'd, Of future immortality,Should lightly flutter round.
My task is done:—who scorns my tasteMay paint me, if he can,A scene with gentler beauties grac'dFor poet or for man.