Elegiac Stanzas.
The queen of night shone from her starred domain,
And o'er the scene her silver splendour threw,
When homewards, as I passed the tranquil plain,
Towards the drear mansions of the dead I drew.
It was the hour when shrouded spectres rise
To summon guilt, or cheer some weeping friend,
When, lo! a female in et my wondering eyes,
As o'er a tomb I saw her pensive bend.
Secluded from the rabble's giddy noise,
O'er the remains of one to memory dear,
She paused to muse on past and fleeting joys,
And pay the tribute of affection's tear.
Arrayed in garment white as Alpine snows,
Forlorn and pallid was the lovely maid;
Her lap contained each flower that wildly blows,
To deck the grave where him she mourned was laid.
Wild and unsettled was the virgin's look,
And as the chaplet for her tresses fair,
She'd stole the willow from the murmuring brook;
Her languid eyes seemed sunk in deep despair.
And now she sung: not e'en sweet Philomel
E'er warbled half so mournful, sadly sweet;
While from her lily hand the flowerets fell,
And strewed the grassy tomb beneath her feet.
And now her bosom wildly throbbed with woe,
Nor longer could the nymph her sorrows speak,
Save by the tears which from her eyes did flow,
And washed with Misery's dew each faded cheek.
Convulsed she stood, then sunk upon the grave,
I flew and snatched her from the icy sod;
But vain my efforts Anna's life to save,
Her spirit pure had flown unto her God.