Page:The poetical works of Thomas Campbell.djvu/226

This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.

206

Earth's cultureless buds, to my heart ye were dear,Ere the fever of passion, or ague of fearHad scathed my existence's bloom;Once I welcome you more, in life's passionless stage,With the visions of youth to revisit my age,And I wish you to grow on my tomb.

SONG.

TO THE EVENING STAR.

Star that bringest home the bee,And sett'st the weary labourer free!If any star shed peace, 'tis thou,That send'st it from above,Appearing when Heaven's breath and browAre sweet as her's we love.
Come to the luxuriant skies,Whilst the landscape's odours rise.Whilst far-off lowing herds are heard,And songs, when toil is done,From cottages whose smoke unstirredCurls yellow in the sun.
Star of love's soft interviews,Parted lovers on thee muse;Their remembrancer in HeavenOf thrilling vows thou art,Too delicious to be rivenBy absence from the heart.
This article is issued from Wikisource. The text is available under Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 unless otherwise noted. Additional terms may apply for the media files.