Peter Faultless to his brother Simon tales of night, in rhyme, and other poems. By the author of Night [i.e. Ebenezer Elliott] |
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INTRODUCTION. |
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 | Peter Faultless to his brother Simon |  |
INTRODUCTION.
I.
Oh, Lady of the sable vest,Thy sad hands clasp'd upon thy breast!
When heaven is hung with mourning, thou
Turn'st from th' extinguish'd stars thy brow,
To curse and interdict the light,
And hallow darkness! thou art Night.
When shipwreck howls along the deep,
Thou sittest on the wave-worn steep,
To see destruction's giant hand
With more than horror strew the strand!
I call'd not thee, thou face of tears,
All channell'd by the share of years!
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To turn his dream of hope to madness;
The throne of trouble is his heart.
What need hath he of fear and thee?
Lady of Gloom! depart, depart!
II.
When she, the hope of nations, died,Whose story is a realm in woe,
Was it not thou, whose wing supplied
A fitting pall for such a bier?
Following the dead, with footstep slow,
England beheld thy gloomy tear.
While, from thy wan and trembling hand,
Death's torch flash'd o'er a blasted land
The mockery of the blessed day.
Lady of Death! away, away!
Oh!—Lady of Despair!—away!
III.
Hath Night no smiles? or none for me?I love not gloom, but jollity.
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The dreadful drop by murder spilt,
The seowl of the renounc'd of heaven,
The self-condemn'd, the unforgiven;
That task be his, of soul severe,
The poet of the burning tear,
Who sung Medora, love, and woe;
To gloomy spirit, darkness, go!
Yet come, (but smiling,) Night, to me;
Or, bring the urchin, Fun, with thee.
| Peter Faultless to his brother Simon | |