when shall spring visit?

Here is another poem from Parnassus, the anthology compiled by Ralph Waldo Emerson in 1874 (pdf).

Nature

'Tis night, and the landscape is lovely no more;
I mourn, but, ye woodlands, I mourn not for you:
For morn is approaching, 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 will save.
But when shall spring visit the mouldering urn?
O when shall it dawn on the night of the grave?

Here Emerson gives us an extract from a long poem by James Beattie, The Minstrel; or, the Progress of Genius.

{source. There's a long article on Beattie here.}