Blank verse (1798) | ||
40
LINES
ON PASSING A PLACE OF FORMER RESIDENCE.
December 1796.
I past my childhood's home, and, lo, 'twas dark!
The night-wind whistled 'mid its leafless trees!
No taper twinkled cheerily to tell
That she had heap'd the hospitable fire,
Spread the trim board, and with an anxious heart
Expected me, her “dearest boy,” to spend
With her the evening hour! Oh, no! 'twas gone,
The friendly taper, and the warm fire's glow
Trembling athwart the gloom! I listen'd long,
Nor heard, save the unfeeling blast of night,
Which chill'd my frame, or the sere ice-glaz'd twig
49
Then I bethought me she was coffin'd far
Away—entombed on the earth's cold lap!
I look'd again; such thoughts were too, too true;
For no ray glimmer'd! I did pass along
Shivering, and bowed to earth with heaviness.
Blank verse (1798) | ||