The strawberry blooms upon its lowly bed, Plant of my native soil! -- the lime may fling More potent fragrance on the zephyr's wing; The milky cocoa richer juices shed; The white guava lovelier blossoms spread -- But not like thee to fond remembrance bring The vanished hours of life's enchanting spring, Short calendar of joys for ever fled! -- Thou bidst the scenes of childhood rise to view, The wild-wood path which fancy loves to trace; Where veiled in leaves, thy fruit of rosy hue Lurked on its pliant stem with modest grace -- But ah! when thought would later years renew, Alas, successive sorrows crowd the space! |