The linnet in the rocky dells

T. Fisk

The linnet in the rocky dells

The moor lark in the air

The bee among the heather bells

That hide a lady fair

The wild deer browse above her breast

The wild birds raise their brood

And they, her smiles of love caressed

Have left her solitude

I ween that when the graves dark wail

Did first her form retain

They thought their hearts could ne'er recall

The light of joy again

They thought the tide of grief would flow

Unchecked through future years

But where is all their anguish now

And where are all their tears?

Well let them fight for honours breath

Or pleasures shade pursue

The dweller in the land of death

Is changed and careless too

And, if their eyes should watch and weep

Till sorrows source were dry

She would not, in her tranquil sleep

Return a single sigh

Blow west-wind, by the lonely mound

And murmur summer streams

There is no need of other sound

To soothe a lady's dreams