Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1825.pdf/5



To coldness, misery, and pain, All the worn heart endures in vain, And yet too gentle to complain; Left, 'mid the cold and proud—behind— Friends even more than fate unkind ; And then, thy solitude of death, No lip to catch thy parting breath, No clasp, fond as that it would press Life to stay for love's last caress; And then, the years of toil and care Thy gentleness had had to bear; All, all the faithlessness and wrong That have pursu'd my path so long; Desolate, as I feel alone, How can I weep that thou art gone? L. E. L.