Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 21 and 22 1827.pdf/6



And the swift charger sweep In full career, Trampling thy place of sleep Why cam'st thou here?

Why?—Ask the true heart why Woman hath been Ever, where brave men die, Unshrinking seen?

Unto this harvest-ground Proud reapers came— Some for that stirring sound, A Warrior's name:

Some for the stormy play, And joy of strife; And some to fling away A weary life.

But thou, pale Sleeper! thou With the slight frame, And the rich locks, whose glow Death cannot tame:

Only one thought, one power, Thee could have led, So through the tempest's hour To lift thy head!

Only the true, the strong, The love, whose trust Woman's deep soul too long Pours on the dust. F. H.