Page:The Emigrants.pdf/27



From her dear native land, now yields awhile To kind forgetfulness, while Fancy brings, In waking dreams, that native land again! Versailles appears­—its painted galleries, And rooms of regal splendour, rich with gold, Where, by long mirrors multiply'd, the crowd Paid willing homage­—and, united there, Beauty gave charms to empire—­Ah! too soon From the gay visionary pageant rous'd, See the sad mourner start!­—and, drooping, look With tearful eyes and heaving bosom round On drear reality­—where dark'ning waves, Urg'd by the rising wind, unheeded foam Near her cold rugged seat:­—To call her thence A fellow‐sufferer comes: dejection deep Checks, but conceals not quite, the martial air,