Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake
Robert Burns (17591796)To Mary in Heaven
T
That lov’st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher’st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary! dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear’st thou the groans that rend his breast?
Can I forget the hallow’d grove,
Where by the winding Ayr we met,
To live one day of parting love!
Eternity will not efface
Those records dear of transports past;
Thy image at our last embrace;
Ah! little thought we ’twas our last!
O’erhung with wild woods, thick’ning green;
The fragrant birch, and hawthorn hoar,
Twined am’rous round the raptured scene.
The flowers sprang wanton to be prest,
The birds sang love on ev’ry spray,—
Till too, too soon, the glowing west
Proclaim’d the speed of winged day.
And fondly broods with miser care;
Time but th’ impression deeper makes,
As streams their channels deeper wear.
My Mary, dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
Seest thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear’st thou the groans that rend his breast?