Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/80

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Came thronging o'er his generous soul, And ere the dawn of day, Up from his restless couch he rose, And wander'd lone away.

But Carloman in broken sleep Still roved with troubled mind, Oft in his dark dream murmuring deep, "Adieu, my Rosalind!"——

Then in his ear a thrilling voice Exclaim'd "Brave youth,—arise!— The morn that lights to glorious strife    With purple flouts the skies:—

"No lover to his bridal hastes    With spirit half so warm, As rush Franconia's sons to meet     Red battle's moody storm."—

Abash'd the youthful sleeper sprang, And Merovee stood near, An iron chain was in his hand, And on his brow a tear.—

Then quickly round the forms of both That stubborn band he threw, And joined the parted links in one, And set the rivet true.

"Think'st thou I 'd cross the rolling Rhine    And see our forests wave, And urge my suit to Rosalind     When thou wert in thy grave?—