Seven long years has the desert rain <br />Dropped on the clods that hide thy face; <br />Seven long years of sorrow and pain <br />I have thought of thy burial-place. <br /> <br />Thought of thy fate in the distant west, <br />Dying with none that loved thee near; <br />They who flung the earth on thy breast <br />Turned from the spot williout a tear. <br /> <br />There, I think, on that lonely grave, <br />Violets spring in the soft May shower; <br />There, in the summer breezes, wave <br />Crimson phlox and moccasin flower. <br /> <br />There the turtles alight, and there <br />Feeds with her fawn the timid doe; <br />There, when the winter woods are bare, <br />Walks the wolf on the crackling snow. <br /> <br />Soon wilt thou wipe my tears away; <br />All my task upon earth is done; <br />My poor father, old and gray, <br />Slumbers beneath the churchyard stone. <br /> <br />In the dreams of my lonely bed, <br />Ever thy form before me seems; <br />All night long I talk with the dead, <br />All day long I think of my dreams. <br /> <br />This deep wound that bleeds and aches, <br />This long pain, a sleepless pain-- <br />When the Father my spirit takes, <br />I shall feel it no more again.<br /><br />William Cullen Bryant<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-maiden-s-sorrow/
