Page:Moral Pieces in Prose and Verse.pdf/58

  Hoarse moving thunders roar'd a mighty knell, The glad earth shouted as the prison fell, The pow'rs infernal shriek'd in hollow moan, And their grim monarch trembled on his throne.

 

FAREWELL! Farewell! no rolling sun To me shall e'er thy light restore, And cheerfully thou go'st to seek Thy many sisters gone before.

I would, that all unstain'd and fair. The register that thou dost bear Of me—might be; but yet adieu, And if I sigh, still be thou true. For thou to Heaven's assembled host, Must utter what of me thou know'st.

Nay—cast not back that look of pain, And echo not my sighs again! 