Within these wilds was Anna wont to rove While Harland told his love in many a sigh, But stern on Harland roll'd her brother's eye, They fought, they fell -- her brother and her love! To Death's dark house did grief-worn Anna haste, Yet here her pensive ghost delights to stay; Oft pouring on the winds the broken lay -- And hark, I hear her -- 'twas the passing blast. I love to sit upon her tomb's dark grass, Then Memory backward rolls Time's shadowy tide; The tales of other days before me glide: With eager thought I seize them as they pass; For fair, tho' faint, the forms of Memory gleam, Like Heaven's bright beauteous bow reflected in the stream. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO THE CUCKOO by MICHAEL BRUCE TO THE UNKNOWN EROS: BOOK 1: 8. DEPARTURE by COVENTRY KERSEY DIGHTON PATMORE SUMMER. THE SECOND PASTORAL, OR ALEXIS by ALEXANDER POPE ARCADIA: THE BARGAIN by PHILIP SIDNEY IMPRESSIONS: LA FUITE DE LA LUNE by OSCAR WILDE THE ALCHEMIST by ST. CLAIR ADAMS |