The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
On lost Ignotus' fate a moment gaze,
Who in his cups oft gained the drunkard's praise;
He swiftly hasted with his pilfered load
The bridge to shun and oft-frequented road.
Beneath a sheet of ice the river slept,
Half o'er its course the thoughtless poacher stepped,
Around his feet the yielding crystal bends,
And dreadful in a spreading circle rends!
He heard—he trembled,—but it was too late,
The ice gave way, and locked him up with fate.
Till morning came his faithful lurcher stopped,—
Howled near the chasm through which his master dropped.
His frantic children viewed the fatal cleft,
Though injured,—their affection still was left;
Their grief,—their woe,—can never be expressed,—
Imagination must depict the rest.
His corse, though sought, was never brought to land,
But somewhere lies deep shrouded in the sand!
His neighbours wept not, though he ne'er returned,
And for his loss his children only mourned.
Who in his cups oft gained the drunkard's praise;
He swiftly hasted with his pilfered load
The bridge to shun and oft-frequented road.
Beneath a sheet of ice the river slept,
Half o'er its course the thoughtless poacher stepped,
Around his feet the yielding crystal bends,
And dreadful in a spreading circle rends!
He heard—he trembled,—but it was too late,
The ice gave way, and locked him up with fate.
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Howled near the chasm through which his master dropped.
His frantic children viewed the fatal cleft,
Though injured,—their affection still was left;
Their grief,—their woe,—can never be expressed,—
Imagination must depict the rest.
His corse, though sought, was never brought to land,
But somewhere lies deep shrouded in the sand!
His neighbours wept not, though he ne'er returned,
And for his loss his children only mourned.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |