University of Virginia Library

Nothing in heaven or earth to show
One sign of sympathizing woe—
And nothing but that agony
In her now unconscious eye
To weigh upon the labouring breast
And prove she did not pass at rest—
But he who watched, in thought had gone
Retracing back her lifetime flown;
Like sudden ghosts, to memory came
Full many a face, and many a name,
Full many a heart, that in the tomb
He almost deemed might have throbbed again
Had they but known her dreary doom,
Had they but seen their idol there,
A wreck of desolate despair,
Left to the wild birds of the air
And mountain winds and rain!
For him—no tear his stern eye shed
As he looked down upon the dead—
‘Wild morn’—he thought—‘and doubtful noon;
But yet it was a glorious sun
Though comet-like its course was run:
That sun should never have been given
To burn and dazzle in the heaven
Or night has quenched it far too soon!
And thou art gone—with all thy pride,
Thou, so adored, so deified!
Cold as the earth, unweeting now
Of love, or joy, or mortal woe—

‘For what thou wert, I would not grieve,
But much, for what thou wert to be—
That life, so stormy and so brief,
That death, has wronged us more than thee!
Thy passionate youth was nearly past
The opening sea seemed smooth at last
Yet vainly flowed the calmer wave
Since fate had not decreed to save—
And vain too must the sorrow be
Of those who live to mourn for thee;
But Gondal's foes shall not complain
That thy dear blood was poured in vain!’