'MID these hamlets and these woods Life itself at last I find; Here my soul no longer broods On my sorrows left behind. Fontenay delightful where My young eyes first saw the sun, Soon unto my sires I'll fare When the race of life is run. Muses who beside this lawn Nourished me with kindly breath, Trees that saw my young life dawn You shall see it wane in death. Yet 'tis wise to breathe the air In the shadow of your boughs Tearless, and my soul prepare For that dark and awful house, Where of all the trees that I Set within the grove to wave There shall follow when I die Cypress only to my grave. |