Graham's Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 4, April 1842Various
General
Graham's Magazine, Vol. XX, No. 4, April 1842
Various
Literature -- Periodicals; Literature, Modern -- 19th century -- Periodicals
Now shall the feet of pensive wanderers turn,
With heedless steps from thy more classic urn;
But sadly tread the village grave-yard round,
’Midst tombs defac’d, and many a mouldering mound,
And pause and ponder where, embower’d in green,
Thy marble crowns the fair surrounding scene—
Where gentle gales their flowery fragrance strew,
And morn and eve thy lowly turf bedew—
Where the fresh sward and trembling tree-leaves wave,
While night-winds sing their dirges round thy grave—
And slow-wing’d warblers on their airy way,
Breathe their sad wails o’er Murder’s beauteous prey.
Fair maid belov’d! whose vows were kept in heav’n,
By angels welcom’d ere pronounc’d forgiven—
’Tis not alone that thou didst early die,
That rain thee tears from every manly eye—
Not that thy love’s unanswer’d wish was pure,
Does the touch’d heart remember and deplore;
But that thy form a savage hand should doom,
In bridal robes to share a nuptial tomb—
Just as hope held life’s blissful prize in view,
That death should prove it mockery and untrue,
And make thee share, who sought the plighted brave,
A lover’s anguish and a martyr’s grave!
But vain for thee may roll the tuneful line,
Since praises breath’d from every tongue are thine—
In vain may song its mournful strain bestow,
Since grief to feel is but thy fate to know—
In vain may sorrow her sad dirge impart,
For Pity’s throb is thine from every heart—
In vain thy tale these thoughtful numbers chime,
Since trac’d in blood upon the scroll of time.
Cease then the song, and drop the tear instead,
O’er the still slumbers of the lovely dead—
Heave from the breast the unaffected sigh,
Where spreads her name, and where her ashes lie.
For when from art the world shall cease to know,
Afflicted Beauty’s all-surviving woe—
When poet’s verse and sculptor’s shaft decay,
Time o’er the wreck the story shall display,
And simple truth, with tragic power relate
The love that perish’d from the wrongs of fate,
While Pity melts, and listening Fear turns pale,
With each stern horror of the harrowing tale.
* * * * *
HARRY CAVENDISH.
BY THE AUTHOR OF “CRUIZING IN THE LAST WAR,” “THE REEFER OF ’76,” ETC.
ETC.
THE PIRATE.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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