Page:Bürger's Lenore, Rossetti 1900.djvu/25



From man to man all wildly she ran With a swift and searching eye; But she felt alone in the mighty mass, As it crushed and crowded by: On hurried the troop,—a gladsome group,— And proudly the tall plumes wave and droop: She tore her hair and she turned her round, And madly she dashed her against the ground.

Her mother clasped her tenderly With soothing words and mild: "My child, may God look down on thee,— God comfort thee, my child." "Oh! mother, mother! gone is gone! I reck no more how the world runs on: What pity to me does God impart? Woe, woe, woe! for my heavy heart! "