Of many a long night gone before!"
Oh! all those happy hours were o'er
When, seated by our own fireside,
I'd smile to hear the wild winds roar,
And turn to clasp my beauteous bride.
'I could not bear the thoughts which rose
Of what had been, and what must be,
And still the dark night would disclose
Its sorrow-pictured prophecy;
Still saw I—miserable me—