Why are you crying thus;" said I, "While others laugh and shout with joy?” She kissed me--and, with such a sigh! She called me her poor ORPHAN BOY. "What is an Orphan Boy?" I cried, As in her face I look'd and smil'd; My mother through her tears replied, "You'll know too soon, ill fated child!" And now they've tolled my mother's knell, And I'm no more a parent's joy, O lady, I have learnt too well Oh! were I by your bounty fed! THE CHILD OF SORROW'S TALE. Deny, but do not taunt a maid Who never scorn, with scorn repays; Before I told my twentieth year— I ne'er could frame the harsh reply, All my remembrance was-A TEAR. And I have known the slanderer's tongue Though mournful, mild was my complaint. And I was forc'd by cruel power To leave the scenes I held most dear; O! 'twas indeed a trying hour! Yet all my language was-A TEAR. And I bave known the youth I lov'd No-no-I COULD not shed a―TEAR. Ah! full was then my cup of grief- A small, a trifling, boon at most. THE RING. The sea-gull wheel'd in circles low, The evening blast began to blow, Up the steep clift's rifted side. In broken foam, the white surge drove, With haggard eyes, and locks unbound, Stood MARY-once the fairest maid And chastest wife on Cornwall's shore, Till lost her spouse-herself betray'd, And fair, and virtuous, now no more! Down on the crumbling rock she kneel'd, "O! golden pledge of early love! Thou promise of connubial bliss! Upbraid me not!"—she cried-" nor prove "How ill this soul sustains distress. "Whene'er thy glittering form I view, My heart reproaches me and cries— "Could'st thou forget a spouse so true, "Who first conferr'd this hallow'd prize? "And ere soft April's dewy hand "Had twice bestrew'd with flow'rs his grave Submit thee to seduction's bland "The dupe of vice, and passion's slave! Accurst by heav'n, and woman kind, "O! golden pledge of happier times! "Thou promise sweet of wedded blissNo more reproach me with my crimes, "Nor aggravate my soul's distress! Wow dear, belov'd, dishonour'd pledge! 66 "That gazers o'er this fearful ridge, 66 Might learn, from thee, that I am gone! "Here witness thou how MARY fell, "To expiate her foul disgrace; "And soon to her Betrayer tell The tale that time shall ne'er efface!" She clasp'd her hands—she rais'd her eyes, No hope remain'd-no help was near! Down-down she plung'd—the dashing wave |