On Receiving a Branch of Mezereon Which Flowered at Woodstock. DECEMBER, 1809. Mary Tighe (née Blachford) Alexander Huber Editor Bodleian Libraries, University of Oxford
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Eighteenth-Century Poetry Archive
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Oxford This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License. Tighe, Mary, 1772-1810. Psyche, With Other Poems. London Printed for LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW 1811 pp. 307-310. 314p.

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On Receiving a Branch of Mezereon Which Flowered at Woodstock . DECEMBER , 1809. ODOURS of Spring , my sense ye charm With fragrance premature ; And , mid these days of dark alarm , Almost to hope allure . Methinks with purpose soft ye come To tell of brighter hours , Of May's blue skies , abundant bloom , Her sunny gales and showers . Alas ! for me shall May in vain The powers of life restore ; These eyes that weep and watch in pain Shall see her charms no more . No , no , this anguish cannot last ! Beloved friends , adieu ! The bitterness of death were past , Could I resign but you . But oh ! in every mortal pang That rends my soul from life , That soul , which seems on you to hang Through each convulsive strife , Even now , with agonizing grasp Of terror and regret , To all in life its love would clasp Clings close and closer yet . Yet why , immortal , vital spark ! Thus mortally opprest ? Look up , my soul , through prospects dark , And bid thy terrors rest ; Forget , forego thy earthly part , Thine heavenly being trust : — Ah , vain attempt ! my coward heart Still shuddering clings to dust . Oh ye ! who sooth the pangs of death With love's own patient care , Still , still retain this fleeting breath , Still pour the fervent prayer : — And ye , whose smile must greet my eye No more , nor voice my ear , Who breathe for me the tender sigh , And shed the pitying tear , Whose kindness ( though far far removed ) My grateful thoughts perceive , Pride of my life , esteemed , beloved , My last sad claim receive ! Oh ! do not quite your friend forget , Forget alone her faults ; And speak of her with fond regret Who asks your lingering thoughts .