Peter Faultless to his brother Simon tales of night, in rhyme, and other poems. By the author of Night [i.e. Ebenezer Elliott] |
Peter Faultless to his brother Simon | ||
IX.
Ended his ditty sadly sweet;Resum'd his fiddle and his seat;
Applauded by the noiseless tear,
Although no plaudit met his ear;
Sigh'd he, the meekest child of woe.
His cheek, late pallid as the snow,
Now burn'd with feeling's hectic glow,
(Consumption's banner there display'd,)
Beautiful, as a dying maid;
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Or, like the rose, the splendour less,
Oh, not the white one, but the pale,
That droops, the mourner of the vale,
Carnation'd faintly, in the gale!
Peter Faultless to his brother Simon | ||