Friday, April 26, 2024 Text is available under the CC BY-SA 3.0 licence.

James Beattie

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'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more;
I mourn, but you woodlands I mourn not for you!
For spring is returning your charms to restore,
Perfumed with fresh fragrance and glittering with dew.
Nor yet for the ravage of winter I mourn,
Kind nature the embryo blossom shall save;
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?

 
James Beattie

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But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?
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Mourn if you must. But mourn on the march to Tarmon Gai'don.

 
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