141
TO AN UNFORTUNATE WOMAN,
Whom the Author had known in the days of her Innocence.
Myrtle-leaf that, ill besped,
Finest in the gladsome ray,
Soil'd beneath the common tread,
Far from thy protecting spray!
When the Partridge o'er the sheaf
Whirr'd along the yellow vale,
Sad I saw thee, heedless leaf!
Love the dalliance of the gale.
Lightly didst thou, foolish thing!
Heave and flutter to his sighs,
While the flatterer, on his wing,
Wooed and whisper'd thee to rise.
Gaily from thy mother-stalk
Wert thou danced and wafted high—
Soon on this unshelter'd walk
Flung to fade, to rot and die.
