Ellen Gray or, The dead maiden's curse. A poem, by the late Dr. Archibald Macleod [i.e. W. L. Bowles] |
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 | Ellen Gray |  |
Poor Ellen, while her father was alive,
Saw all things round the humble dwelling thrive:
Her widow'd mother now was growing old,
And, one by one, their worldly goods were sold:
Ellen remain'd, her mother's hope and pride—
How oft, when she was sleeping by her side,
She wak'd at night, and kiss'd her brow, with tears,
And prayed for blessings on her future years,—
When she, her mother, ev'ry trial o'er,
Should rest on earth's cold lap, to weep no more.
Saw all things round the humble dwelling thrive:
Her widow'd mother now was growing old,
And, one by one, their worldly goods were sold:
Ellen remain'd, her mother's hope and pride—
How oft, when she was sleeping by her side,
She wak'd at night, and kiss'd her brow, with tears,
And prayed for blessings on her future years,—
When she, her mother, ev'ry trial o'er,
Should rest on earth's cold lap, to weep no more.
| Ellen Gray | |