XII.
Where rests the monarch’s daughter now?
Can she such scenes abide?
She’s gone a far and weary way,
To bright Potomac’s side.
The coldness of her father’s eye
Has made her eye grow dim—
Sir John has gone beyond the sea,
And her heart is gone with him;
And the sound of war, and the sight of blood,
That stain’d her native wild,
Have thrown a gloom on the weary life
Of the fair and gentle child.
She could not rest in her father’s lodge,
Nor bide in her summer bower,
But wander’d alone about the woods,
And droop’d like a fading flower.
The monarch watch’d her changing hue
In sunshine and in shade,
And the father’s heart within him yearn’d
When he saw her beauty fade.
For fifteen years her joyous heart,
And smiling cheek and eye,
Had been the light of the old man’s life,
And he could not see her die.