 | The Solitary, and other poems |  |
The leech is come, but strives in vain
To soothe the fever of the brain.
Jasper dies raving:—close the scene—
'Tis fearful to behold, I ween,
But now he lies, as calm, as mild,
As silent as a sleeping child.
To soothe the fever of the brain.
Jasper dies raving:—close the scene—
'Tis fearful to behold, I ween,
But now he lies, as calm, as mild,
As silent as a sleeping child.
| The Solitary, and other poems | |