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 |  |
She whom he lov'd was in her shroud,—nor pain
Nor grief shall visit her sad heart again.
There is no sculptur'd tomb-stone at her head;
No rude memorial marks her lowly bed:
The village children, every holiday,
Round the green turf, in summer sunshine play;
And none, but those now bending to the tomb,
Remember Ellen, lovely in her bloom!
Nor grief shall visit her sad heart again.
There is no sculptur'd tomb-stone at her head;
No rude memorial marks her lowly bed:
The village children, every holiday,
Round the green turf, in summer sunshine play;
And none, but those now bending to the tomb,
Remember Ellen, lovely in her bloom!
| Ellen Gray | |