 | Underglimpses (1857) |  |
146
TO THE MARCHIONESS OF DONEGAL.
Lady, the heart-won glory of thy sonTurns his sad loss to such atoning gain,
Making swift Death's malicious stroke as vain
As the spent bullet when the victory's won,
That I would wish this lyric feat undone,—
These lines unwrit, or in a prouder strain,
Such as befit a glorious young man slain
In a career that heroes only run:
Yet deign to take them—be their faults forgiven,
O Lady, for the sake of him they mourn.
They should be joyful for the great boon given
To thee, to us, and to this land forlorn—
To thee to have thy angel youth in heaven—
To us, to boast his patriot pride unworn.
| Underglimpses (1857) | |