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Lenimina Laborum. 54. To a Cypress Tree Melancholy Tree! thou who dost stand Like a sad mourner in his sable shroud Fast by the grave of her he loved, too proud In his deep muffled woe, to have it scanned. Whilst on each side of that dear space of land (Too sacred for the common weeping crowd,) The attendant woods, remote, on either hand, Eave and lament in murmurs low or loud: Wilt thou, russet Tree! lend me thy shade Each noontide, when the sun inflames the sky And glares with hideous splendour from on high Taking the sweet green sadness from the glade? Wilt thou keep full with tears the floweret's eye That weeps alone where I am lonely laid? George Darley's other poems:
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