 | The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson |  |
195
THE DEATH OF CRAZY JANE.
'Twas at the hour when night retreating,
Bade the screech-owl seek his nest;
Gloomy vapours slow were fleeting,
Morning glimmer'd in the east:
On the heath, her wild woes telling,
To the winds, and beating rain,
Cold, unshelter'd, far from dwelling;
Trembling sat poor Crazy Jane.
Bade the screech-owl seek his nest;
Gloomy vapours slow were fleeting,
Morning glimmer'd in the east:
On the heath, her wild woes telling,
To the winds, and beating rain,
Cold, unshelter'd, far from dwelling;
Trembling sat poor Crazy Jane.
“Ah!” she cried, “ye scenes around me,
Witnesses of Henry's art;
Witnesses he faithful found me,
How he broke this tender heart:
Go, ye wild winds, try to move him!
Bid him heal this heart again;
Did he know how much I love him,
He would pity Crazy Jane.
Witnesses of Henry's art;
Witnesses he faithful found me,
How he broke this tender heart:
Go, ye wild winds, try to move him!
Bid him heal this heart again;
Did he know how much I love him,
He would pity Crazy Jane.
196
“Henry comes; I see him yonder,
Dart like lightning o'er the heath!
Ah! no! no! my senses wander—
Since he comes not, welcome death!”
Fainting, on the earth she laid her;
Soon, in pity to her pain,
Death, where love had first betray'd her,
Gave relief to Crazy Jane.
Dart like lightning o'er the heath!
Ah! no! no! my senses wander—
Since he comes not, welcome death!”
Fainting, on the earth she laid her;
Soon, in pity to her pain,
Death, where love had first betray'd her,
Gave relief to Crazy Jane.
| The Poetical Works of Robert Anderson | |