Literary Gazette, 12th January, 1822, Page 27
ORIGINAL POETRY.
POETIC SKETCHES.
(Sketch the First "A woman’s whole life is
a history of the affections. The heart is her
world. She sends forth her sympathies in
adventure; she embarks her whole soul in the
traffic of love, and, if shipwrecked, her case
is hopeless; it is bankruptcy of the heart.")[1]
"Who shall bring healing to thy heart’s despair,
Thy whole rich sum of happiness lies there."[2]
There are dark yew-trees gathered round, beneath
Are the white tombstones, and the green grass sods;
No other sounds are heard, save the low voice
Of a brook wandering by, or the wild song
Of the sweet red-breast plaining o'er the graves.
There is one tomb, distinguished from the rest
By wild flowers braided round in curious wreathes
Of April beauty; the blue violet
Bending with dewdrops, like to maiden tears,
Falling for love betrayed; the primrose wan,
As sick with hope deceived; the wild briar-rose
And honeysuckles fancifully linked,
While watching them with fond and patient care,
A pale and wasted Girl leans by that grave.
She once was beautiful, but the hot sun
Has left too rude a kiss upon her cheek,
And she has lain on the damp grass, the sky
Her only canopy; while the dew hung
Amid her hair, and the hoarse night wind sung
Her lullaby; and the unwholesome moss
Has been her pillow; this has paled her brow,
And that worst sickness, sorrow—She has lain
Beside that grave, while some unholy star
Shed over her evil influence.
I marked her place the flowers round, then smile;
Oh, such a sweet sad smile!—she sang at times;
Her song had notes most musical, but strange,
That thrilled the heart and wet the eye with tears.
