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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 | Peter Faultless to his brother Simon |  |
I.
Long since, to th' wood return'd the crow;Don, bounding o'er his bank, is loud;
And thick above the melting snow,
Night's blackness hides the pouring cloud.
No azure islands heaven, no star
O'er Thrybergh's grey oaks peeps afar,
Piercing the deluge of the sky,
Through which the blast wades drearily.
But on the hill, a blaze with light,
Deserted Mary's cottage gleams,
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Wave fast their bare arms in the beams.
Is this the widow's wedding night?
'Tis now ten years since William went,
The slave of jealous discontent,
To fight the Yankees, in despite,
Rather than stay at home and fight;
And now six months are passed, or more,
Since Mathew Hall arriv'd, and told
That William's limbs lie stiff and cold,
On wintry Champlain's forest shore.
And does the widow wed again?
Oh! widowhood is weary pain,
Of ills the worst that can befall!
And, loving him, as he loves her,
Say, does she wed the messenger
Of late good tidings, Mathew Hall?
| Peter Faultless to his brother Simon | |