Poems Consisting Of Essays, Lyric, Elegiac, &c. By Thomas Dermody. Written between the 13th and 16th Year of his Age |
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THE LINNET's LAMENT. |
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THE LINNET's LAMENT.
Now slowly sinking in the purple West,The Lord of Splendor sought ambrosial rest;
While Twilight pale with gentle hand, above
Her fairy veil of sullen vapour, wove;
The falling stream a lulling murmur made,
And night descended in the silent shade;
Afar, the Shepherd's pipe was heard to thrill,
Warbling soft cadence to the tinkling rill;
Young Hesper rose sublime, with radiant eye,
And vestal Evening triumph'd o'er the sky;
When thus, enshrined amid yon gloomy grove,
A pensive Linnet mourn'd her absent Love:
“Dear part'ner of my days, whose glowing breast,
Warm'd the scant mansion of our little nest,
Who wont, at morning-break, to flit away,
Anxious to seek the viands of the day;
Anxious, thy callow brood, at home to feed;
Thy callow brood! whose infant bosoms bleed.
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Look round, and fondly hope to find Thee here.
Curst be the Clown, who robb'd thee of thy Life,
O! may he never know a tender wife;
Ne'er hear his Children lisp their father's name,
But roam forlorn, with penury and shame!
In vain my darling ev'ry force essay'd,
In vain he fought, sweet Hero of the Shade,
In vain he shriek'd!—the barb'rous wretch unmov'd,
Tore the fond husband from his mate belov'd;
Doom'd now, perchance, to glut some urchin's rage,
Or starve, sad Captive! in a wiry cage.
“Poor bird!”—she utter'd with a feeble sound,
“Poor bird!” the pitying echoes sigh'd around;
When lo! quick rustling thro' the branches green,
Flutt'ring, her Love, in extacy was seen;
Mildly, she on her bosom, plac'd his head,
And sooth'd his slumb'rs, while full tears she shed,
Of Gratitude—the woodmen in yon vale,
Attest the genuine feelings of this tale.
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