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Title: The Alder Tree
Author: Charles Mackay [ More Titles by Mackay]
Alder tree, O alder tree, Over his grave reclining; I've braided a wreath of the fairest flowers That ever were fed by the spring-time showers. Or nursed by the summer shining. Short, but lovely, their lives have been, Like his in the damp sod sleeping, And I strew them now on the hillock green, Where a mournful watch I'm keeping. Alder tree! O alder tree! Is it a voice of sorrow That sighs 'mong thy leaves in the silent night, When the radiant hue of the moonshine bright Announceth a pleasant morrow? 'Tis a voice of wailing, O alder tree, 'Tis the evening breeze that weepeth, 'Tis the nightingale singing a song like me, O'er the grave where my loved one sleepeth!
[The end] Charles Mackay's poem: Alder Tree ________________________________________________
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