TO THE
MEMORY OF HENRY KIRKE WHITE.
In yon lone valley where the cypress spreads
Its gloomy, dark, impenetrable shades,
The mourning Nine, o'er White's untimely grave
Murmur their sighs, like Neptune's troubled wave.
Its gloomy, dark, impenetrable shades,
The mourning Nine, o'er White's untimely grave
Murmur their sighs, like Neptune's troubled wave.
There sits Consumption, sickly, pale, and thin,
Her joy evincing by a ghastly grin;
There his deserted garlands withering lie,
Like him they droop, like him untimely die.
Her joy evincing by a ghastly grin;
There his deserted garlands withering lie,
Like him they droop, like him untimely die.