ANOTHER.
Around the tree, so fair, so green,
Erewhile, when summer shone serene,
Lo! where the leaves in many a ring,
Before the wint’ry tempest wing,
Fly scattered o’er the dreary scene:
Such, NORTH, thy friends. Now cold and keen
Thy Winter blows; no shelt’ring skreen
They stretch, no graceful shade they fling
Around the tree.
Yet grant, just Fate, each wretch so mean,
Like EDEN, pining in his spleen
For posts, for stars, for strings, may swing
On two stout posts in hempen string!
Few eyes would drop a tear, I ween,
Around the tree.