YE wells, ye founts that fall From the steep mountain wall, That fall, and flash, and fleet With silver feet, Ye woods, ye streams that lave The meadows with your wave, Ye hills, and valley fair, Attend my prayer! When Heaven and Fate decree My latest hour for me, When I must pass away From pleasant day, I ask that none may break The marble for my sake, Wishful to make more fair My sepulchre. Only a laurel tree Shall shade the grave of me, Only Apollo's bough Shall guard me now! Now shall I be at rest Among the spirits blest, The happy dead that dwell— Where,—who may tell? The snow and wind and hail May never there prevail, Nor ever thunder fall Nor storm at all. But always fadeless there The woods are green and fair, And faithful ever more Spring to that shore! There shall I ever hear Alcaeus' music clear, And sweetest of all things There SAPPHO sings. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE MORAL WARFARE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER THE LAST MAN: RECOLLECTION OF EARLY LIFE by THOMAS LOVELL BEDDOES THE TIME FOR PRAYER by G. BENNETT A VALENTINE by WARREN K. BILLINGS A LADY OF PARIS BORDONE by GORDON BOTTOMLEY |