University of Virginia Library

ICHABOD! THY GLORY HAS DEPARTED.

[_]

(Uhland.)

I ride through a dark, dark Land by night,
Where moon is none and no stars lend light,
And rueful winds are blowing;
Yet oft have I trodden this way ere now,
With summer zephyrs a-fanning my brow,
And the gold of the sunshine glowing.
I roam by a gloomy garden wall;
The death-stricken leaves around me fall;
And the night-blast wails its dolours;
How oft with my love I have hitherward strayed
When the roses flowered, and all I surveyed
Was radiant with Hope's own colours!

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But the gold of the sunshine is shed and gone
And the once bright roses are dead and wan,
And my love in her low grave moulders,
And I ride through a dark, dark land by night
With never a star to bless me with light,
And the Mantle of Age on my shoulders.