Page:Poems - Bryant (1854).djvu/344

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LATER POEMS.

THE MAIDEN'S SORROW.

Seven long years has the desert rainDropped on the clods that hide thy face;Seven long years of sorrow and painI have thought of thy burial-place.
Thought of thy fate in the distant west,Dying with none that loved thee near;They who flung the earth on thy breastTurned from the spot without a tear.
There, I think, on that lonely grave,Violets spring in the soft May shower;There, in the summer breezes, waveCrimson phlox and moccasin flower.
There the turtles alight, and thereFeeds with her fawn the timid doe;There, when the winter woods are bare,Walks the wolf on the crackling snow.
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