 | Poetical Trifles |  |
THE WANDERER.
“Exulat et toto quærit in orbe fugam.”
A wand'rer from her native land,
Poor Anne had travell'd far;
Forc'd by a cruel bloody band,
That rag'd intestine war.
Poor Anne had travell'd far;
Forc'd by a cruel bloody band,
That rag'd intestine war.
Her eye, that once was beaming bright,
Was dim'd by scalding tears;
Her rosy cheek had felt the blight,
Look'd pale by chilling fears.
Was dim'd by scalding tears;
Her rosy cheek had felt the blight,
Look'd pale by chilling fears.
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The simple locks of beauteous brown
That once adorn'd her neck,
Now wild and loose were hanging down
In light and careless wreck.
That once adorn'd her neck,
Now wild and loose were hanging down
In light and careless wreck.
The stones had torn her tender feet,
Which naked shew'd each wound;
Her heart with palpitations beat,
As oft she star'd around.
Which naked shew'd each wound;
Her heart with palpitations beat,
As oft she star'd around.
I mark'd her look—'twas haggard, wild,
And told the writhing thought:
But still there was contentment mild,
Which Hope alone had brought.
And told the writhing thought:
But still there was contentment mild,
Which Hope alone had brought.
With head reclin'd, long time she sat
Beneath a willow tree;
In pensive mood she swung her hat,
By all unseen but me.
Beneath a willow tree;
In pensive mood she swung her hat,
By all unseen but me.
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In piteous gaze I silent stood
Behind two gentle mounds;
And heard when tears had ceas'd to flood,
Her breathe these plaintive sounds:—
Behind two gentle mounds;
And heard when tears had ceas'd to flood,
Her breathe these plaintive sounds:—
“Poor wretched Anne, where art thou now!
What dreadful woes are thine!
Thy soul oppress'd what sorrows bow,
Thy heart what thorns entwine!
What dreadful woes are thine!
Thy soul oppress'd what sorrows bow,
Thy heart what thorns entwine!
“Oh, where is once my peaceful home,
With all its native charms!
Oh, where those spots I us'd to roam
Free from the clash of arms!
With all its native charms!
Oh, where those spots I us'd to roam
Free from the clash of arms!
“Those happy times are gone and fled,
When friends I had so near;
Those bosoms where I laid my head,
In death are cold and drear.
When friends I had so near;
Those bosoms where I laid my head,
In death are cold and drear.
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“In one sad day the murd'rer's steel
Inhuman pierc'd their heart;
In that same day I lost my weal,
Was friendless doom'd to part.
Inhuman pierc'd their heart;
In that same day I lost my weal,
Was friendless doom'd to part.
“E'er since that time, a wand'rer I,
Have roam'd o'er earth and sea;
With lifted hands I've pray'd to die,
For no one pities me.”
Have roam'd o'er earth and sea;
With lifted hands I've pray'd to die,
For no one pities me.”
Her voice was tremb'ling on her tongue,
To tell some grief anew;
But while her heart a deep sigh wrung,
Her soul to mercy flew.
To tell some grief anew;
But while her heart a deep sigh wrung,
Her soul to mercy flew.
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