The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
I. |
II. |
THE BOWER OF WOODSTOCK. |
The Harp of Erin | ||
THE BOWER OF WOODSTOCK.
How fall'n the shades that once
luxuriant rose,
Where ling'ring Transport wav'd his purple wing;
Untuneful now the shallow riv'let flows,
And o'er the fairy wild rude ravens sing.
Where ling'ring Transport wav'd his purple wing;
Untuneful now the shallow riv'let flows,
And o'er the fairy wild rude ravens sing.
Where the long labyrinth meand'ring deep,
Beguil'd the easy step to yonder grove,
Once, Beauty wont her vigils fond to keep,
And watch the hour when Henry came and love.
Beguil'd the easy step to yonder grove,
Once, Beauty wont her vigils fond to keep,
And watch the hour when Henry came and love.
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Ye sad deserted trees, whose holy boughs
Sigh'd at her mournful fate, extend your arms,
With vernal arch her little tomb inclose,
And guard the fair Perfection's sacred charms.
Sigh'd at her mournful fate, extend your arms,
With vernal arch her little tomb inclose,
And guard the fair Perfection's sacred charms.
Here Pity's self breathes soft the tender moan
Through aspen grots, shrill quiv'ring to the gale;
Extinguish'd ardor marks each conscious stone,
And turtles tell their fair one's tragic tale.
Through aspen grots, shrill quiv'ring to the gale;
Extinguish'd ardor marks each conscious stone,
And turtles tell their fair one's tragic tale.
Ev'n now, through yonder gloom, the furious queen,
Seems harsh to menace the faint-gleaming sword,
Pale Jealousy thrills quick through ev'ry vein,
She stabs her husband through his best ador'd.
Seems harsh to menace the faint-gleaming sword,
Pale Jealousy thrills quick through ev'ry vein,
She stabs her husband through his best ador'd.
Let Melancholy feed her dreary breast
With pensive thoughts, and melt the streaming eye,
While Rosamond, in saintly radiance drest,
Reviews her faded Woodstock with a sigh.
With pensive thoughts, and melt the streaming eye,
While Rosamond, in saintly radiance drest,
Reviews her faded Woodstock with a sigh.
The Harp of Erin | ||