Page:Tales and Historic Scenes.pdf/81

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Sever'd in life, united in the tomb— Such, of the hearts that loved so well, the doom! Their dirge, of woods and waves th' eternal moan; Their sepulchre, the pine-clad rocks alone. And oft beside the midnight watch-fire's blaze, Amidst those rocks, in long departed days, (When Freedom fled, to hold, sequester'd there, The stern and lofty councils of despair;) Some exiled Moor, a warrior of the wild, Who the lone hours with mournful strains beguiled, Hath taught his mountain-home the tale of those Who thus have suffer'd, and who thus repose.