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 |  |
Bereft of sons, the mothers came to mourn,
For many went who never could return;
The sorrowing fathers left the scene of mirth,
To seek the dead, ere they were lain in earth.
The harper's lyre, the victor's patriot song,
The widow's grief more poignant made and strong;
Music brought sorrow—triumph brought a tear—
Despair still whispering, “Oh! my son's not here!”
And, pale the widow stood, with grief opprest,
The child, unconscious, smiling at her breast.
Such are the mournful scenes the warriors see,
Though triumph crowns their arms with victory;
Such feasts in days gone by have often been,
With bursts of joy, and mournful thoughts between—
Joy for the conquest, then the solemn strain
Swelled on the lyre, as dirges o'er the slain.
For many went who never could return;
The sorrowing fathers left the scene of mirth,
To seek the dead, ere they were lain in earth.
The harper's lyre, the victor's patriot song,
The widow's grief more poignant made and strong;
Music brought sorrow—triumph brought a tear—
Despair still whispering, “Oh! my son's not here!”
And, pale the widow stood, with grief opprest,
The child, unconscious, smiling at her breast.
Such are the mournful scenes the warriors see,
Though triumph crowns their arms with victory;
Such feasts in days gone by have often been,
With bursts of joy, and mournful thoughts between—
Joy for the conquest, then the solemn strain
Swelled on the lyre, as dirges o'er the slain.
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |