Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/117

The sunburnt tinge that bronzed the brow
    Was bleach'd within that humid shade,
And o'er the smooth cheek's florid glow
    The raven curls profusely play'd.

The pliant hand was soft and fair,
    As if in youth's unfolding prime,
Although the bridal robes declare
    The costume of an ancient time.

Yet no recorded fact might tell
    Who fill'd that dark, mysterious shrine,
The hoariest ones remember'd well
    A shock which whelm'd that ruin'd mine,

But all of him who lifeless slept,
    Was lost in time's unfathom'd deep,
At length an aged woman crept
    To join the throng who gaze and weep.

Propp'd on her staff she totter'd near,
    But when the cold corse met her eye,
She clasp'd her hands in pangs severe,
    And shrieks reveal'd her agony.

And fainting on the earth she lay,
    With struggles of convulsive breath,
As if weak life had fled away
    In terror at the sight of death.

Yet when their care again could light
    The vital taper's fading flame,
When day assured her doubtful sight,
    Deep sighs and sobs of anguish came.