Song of Thyrsis in  General   

THE turtle on yon withered bough,
That lately mourned her murdered mate,
Has found another comrade now--
Such changes all await!
Again her drooping plume is drest,
Again she's willing to be blest
And takes her lover to her nest.

If nature has decreed it so
With all above, and all below,
Let us like them forget our woe,
And not be killed with sorrow.
If I should quit your arms to-night
And chance to die before 't was light,
I would advise you -- and you might --
Love again to-morrow.

By Philip Freneau

Tell Your Friends About It | Print This Poem

Comments

You should be logged in to be able to leave comments

Other poems by Philip Freneau:

• Ode
• On a Honey Bee
• On Retirement
• On The Death Of Dr. Benjamin Franklin
• On the Ruins of a Country Inn
• On the Universality and Other Attributes of the Go
• Song of Thyrsis
• The Indian Burying Ground
• The Republican Genius of Europe
• The Vernal Age
• The Wild Honey-Suckle
• To A New England Poet