Ellen Gray or, The dead maiden's curse. A poem, by the late Dr. Archibald Macleod [i.e. W. L. Bowles] |
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 | Ellen Gray |  |
One night, they longer stay'd the tale to hear,
And Ruth that night “beguil'd him of a tear,
“When he did speak of the distressful stroke
“Which his youth suffer'd.” Then, she pitying spoke,
Yet placed religious hope within his view!
And from that night a tenderer feeling grew.
And why not, ere the long night of the dead,
Life's slow descending steep together tread?
Partake its transient light, or gathering gloom,
And journey gently onward to the tomb?
And Ruth that night “beguil'd him of a tear,
“When he did speak of the distressful stroke
“Which his youth suffer'd.” Then, she pitying spoke,
Yet placed religious hope within his view!
And from that night a tenderer feeling grew.
And why not, ere the long night of the dead,
Life's slow descending steep together tread?
Partake its transient light, or gathering gloom,
And journey gently onward to the tomb?
| Ellen Gray | |