Page:Landon in The New Monthly 1826.pdf/14

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Are there not in yon midnight sky
 * Planets, whose ruling sway

From our birth shape our destiny;—
 * Some that with darkling ray

In one fix'd mournful aspect shine? Such natal star I feel is mine.

And once my horoscope was read,—
 * They said that I should have

A brightness o'er my pathway shed,
 * And then an early grave;

Feelings worn with a sense their own, As chords burst by their own sweet tone.

I have one wish, 'tis wild and vain,
 * Yet still that wish will be,

That I might rest in yon wide main,
 * My tomb the mighty sea;

As if at once my spirit went To blend with the vast element.

One day I saw a grave just made,
 * How drear, how dark, how cold:

There when the coffin had been laid,
 * They trampled down the mould:

A week more 'twas a step and seat For heartless rest, and careless feet.

Be my death-pillow, where the rock
 * Admits no mortal tread—

No carved epitaph to mock
 * The now unconscious dead;

Or be my grave the billows deep, Where the sun shines and the winds sweep.L. E. L.