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Willow Tree Poems

Table of Contents

  1. The Willow by Freeman E. Miller
  2. Willow Song by Felicia Dorthea Hemans
  3. Weeping Willow by Hilda Conkling

  1. The Willow

    by Freeman E. Miller

    A song for the willow, the wild weeping willow,
    That murmurs a dirge to the rapturous days,
    And moans when the kiss of the breeze laden billow
    Entangles and dangles among the sad sprays!
    A musical ditty to scatter the sadness,
    A warble of wildness to banish its tears,
    Till tremulous measures of bountiful gladness
    Be sounding and bounding through all of the years.

    The beautiful brooks, as they waken from slumbers,
    Pause under the shadows that fall from the boughs,
    And weave their caresses in passionate numbers,
    While soothing and smoothing the frowns from its
    brows; But chained in the desolate sorrows of weeping
    Its heart never warms to the raptures of mirth,
    And over its bosom no pleasures are creeping
    While wending and blending their joys with the earth.

    Then sing for the willow, the wild weeping willow,
    That droops in the smiles of the summer-born times,
    And mourns in the kiss of the sweet-scented billow,
    When beaming and gleaming are dripping with chimes!
    While melodies move where their happiness lingers,
    They surely will gladden the tear-laden sprays,
    And music that flutters from fairy-like fingers
    Will lighten and brighten the burdensome days.

  2. Willow Song

    by Felicia Dorthea Hemans

    Willow! in thy breezy moan,
    I can hear a deeper tone;
    Through thy leaves come whispering low
    Faint sweet sounds of long ago.
    Willow, sighing willow!

    Many a mournful tale of old
    Heart-sick love to thee hath told,
    Gathering from thy golden bough
    Leaves to cool his burning brow.
    Willow, sighing willow!

    Many a swan-like song to thee
    Hath been sung, thou gentle tree!
    Many a lute its last lament
    Down thy moonlight stream hath sent:
    Willow, sighing willow!

    Therefore, wave and murmur on!
    Sigh for sweet affections gone,
    And for tuneful voices fled,
    And for love, whose heart hath bled,
    Ever, willow, willow!

  3. Weeping Willow Poems

  4. Weeping Willow

    by Hilda Conkling

    Drooping her eyes,
    Looking long into the skyblue lake,
    The willow stands on her island.
    Tears are falling gently;
    You cannot see them . . .
    What could comfort her?

    Some day a wind will blow
    A western wind . . .
    Out of heaven's bosom
    A breeze will come flying with a harp around its neck. . .
    Into the willow branches it will fly
    And the harp will sing a happy tune.
    I know how they sing,
    Those harps of the wind,
    When the wind is sorry
    Or puzzled!

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