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And must my Gilderoy de part
To bear a death of shame ?
No mourner wipes a tear;
The sledge is all thy bier !
So soon, so sad, to part,
You triumph'd o'er my heart?
Your hunter garb was trim; And graceful was the ribbon green
That bound your manly limb! Ah! little thought I to deplore
These limbs in fetters bound; Or hear, upon thy scaffold floor,
The midnight hammer sound. Ye cruel, cruel, that combin'd
The guiltless to pursue ;
He could not injure you !
Thy widow all forlorn,
Regards iny woe with scorn?
And hate thine orphan boy; Alas! his infant beauty wears
The form of Gilderoy!
Then will I seek the dreary mound
That wraps thy mouldering clay;
And sigh my heart away.
And wrapp'd from view the sinile of day;
To think of friends who are far away. When the full moon rides fair on high,
And from the earth my feelings strayWhen falls the tear, and heaves the sigh,
I think of friends who are far away. Or, when the brow of summer fair
Seems brighter with the smile of day, I wish those joys serene to share,
With friends belov’d, tho' far away.. Or when, as now, stern winter drear,
Chills each sweet prospect, fair and gay, How sweet, with fond affection, dear,
To think of friends who are far away. For me, not absence ere can part
That true, that pure, unclouded ray Of friendship from my tender heart,
for one belov'd, though far away. Yet, what is absence from a friend ? "Tis but a short, a fleeting day,
When our few years on earth must end,
WE PART TO MEET AGAIN. When the low heart is sad and deep,
And tears are flowing fastWhen memory bids the young heart weep
For moments that are past; Sweet to the soul the whispering
Of hope and promise, when
We part to meet again.
And friendly hands are press'd;
The severing storm, oh! then Hope's sweet enchanting voices sing
We part to meet again.
THE VOLUNTEER. The soldier to the war has gone,
At freedom's and his country's call; His father's sword he girded on,
And vanish'd from his father's hall. Coldly at eve the moon-beam shone,
When she, his lov'd one, wander'd there. And breath'd along his harp the tone
That bless'd her faithful volunteer. Then sad she sung, 'perhaps some brand
May reach the heart that beats for me, And who shall then with trembling hand,
Bathe his pale brow, and close his e'ee,Or who bend o'er his bleeding breast,
Kiss his pale cheek, his spirit cheer,
And sooth the noble soul to rest,
Of Henrietta's volunteer.'
As dimiy set the evening star,
Follow'd her soldier to the warResolv'd in battle's storm to ride,
'Mid flashing fire and gleaming spears, A guardian angel by the side
Of her lov'd faithful volunteer.
THE GIPSEY'S PROPHESY. Lady, throw back thy raven hair, Lay thy white brow in the moonlight bare, I will look on the stars, and look on thee, And read the page of thy destiny. Little thanks shall I have for my tale, E'en in youth thy cheek will be pale ; By thy side is a red rose-tree-One lone rose droops wither'd--so thou wilt be. Round thy neck is a ruby chainOne of the rubies is broken in twain; Throw on the ground each shatter'd part, Broken and lost they will be-like thy heart. Mark yon star-it shone at thy birth; Look again-it has fallen to earth; Its glory has pass d, like a thought, away-So, or yet sooner, wilt thou decay. Over yon fountain's silver fall Is a moonlight rainbow's coronal; Its hues of light will melt in tearsWell may they image thy future years.
I may not read in thy hazel eyes,
THE BURIAL AT SEA. No breeze was on the mirror wave
The spangled pendant idly hung, As in the burial of the brave,
Wide o'er the sea our requiem rung; No 'scutcheon glittered on his breast
No coffin cas'd his senseless clayNo kindred heard his last request
His prayer for one far, far away.
O’er ocean's tranquil blue---
As near the wave it drew;
On which the bright beam darted,
For the spirit of him departed.
As in the sea the body fell-
Reflected in the trembling swell.
He ruffled life's broad scene