May the earth which enwraps thee be clothed with flowers
The sweetest that bloom amid Spring's first showers;
May the fresh dews of heaven its bosom bedew
With a fragrance for ever undying, yet new,
And rest thee in peace, loved Mytah.
VII.
"Nay, nay, Koreungat; say not so;
Thou shar'st alike my weal, my woe.
But vainly now I strive to shield
My heart from ills by time unhealed.
Still, o'er my fancy, one by one,
Flit memories of joys bygone:
From commune with myself I shrink
Stung with the agony to think.
What marvel if such lot be mine
I seek not solace though 'twere thine?
By heaven, when clouds deform the sky
Each gloomy scene offends mine eye.
Seeming to arrogate a share
In sorrow mine alone to bear.
Fond fool! a brighter hour succeeds.
