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 |  |
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 | |