Fringed Gentian

To the Fringed Gentian

- William Cullen Bryant 1794-1878)-

Thou Blossom bright with autumn dew,

And coloured with the heavens own blue,

That openest when the quiet light

Succeeds the keen and frosty night.

 

Thou comest not when violets lean

Ore wandering brooks and springs unseen,

Or columbines in purple dressed,

Nod oer the ground-birds nest,

Thou waitest late and comest alone,

When woods are bare and birds are flown,

And frosts and shortening days portend

The aged year is near his end.

 

Then doth thy sweet and quiet eye

Look through its fringes to the sky,

Blue....blue... as if the sky let fall

A flower from its cerulean wall.

I would that thus, when I shall see

The hour of death draw near to me,

Hope, blossoming within my heart,

May look to heaven as I depart.

 

 

Done