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ON RECEIVING A CARD. 353
We heard her yoice from the distant main, ,~* As soon as her warfare was done—
" Gird on thine armour, my husband, again, And fight till the battle is won !"
Did Bonaparte conquer ? She conquer'd more, Till she fell 'neath the fearful blast—■
A victor she was over sin, death and hell; Yea, more than a conqueror at last!
Sleep on, samted woman! sweet be thy repose, 'Mid the dark, rocky islet's gloom—
Long.Jong as the wind on the ocean blows, Sad Burmah shall weep o'er thy tomb.
1841.
ON RECEIVING A CARD,
LEFT BY A DYING FRIEND FOE THE AUTHOB.
\ came, but she had pass'd away— Her place among the graves was seen;
The turf that o'er her pillow lay, Was not yet green.
Mem'ry went baekward to the past, Recalling days of hope and glee,—
I wonder'd, if, even to the last, She thought of me.
This tells the tale :—With trembling hand I hold it to my tearful eye, 33 |
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