Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1822.pdf/33



The bitterness of her despair. It passed— That moment of wild anguish; he knelt down; That sunbeam shed its glory over one, Young, proud, and brave, nerved in deep energy; The next fell over cold and bloody clay. - - There is a deep-voiced sound from yonder vale Which ill accords with the sweet music made By the light birds nestling by those green elms, And a strange contrast to the blossomed thorns. Dark plumes are waving, and a silent hearse Is winding through that lane. They told it bore A widow, who died of a broken heart: Her child, her soul's last treasure,—he had been Shot for desertion!L. E. L.

(In the Fifth Sketch, last week, the first seven lines should have been printed as a head to the poem.)

The closing note refers back to the previous poem, on page 26