For hopes deceived, deceiving yet,
For dreams of pride, that vainly tell
How high a lot had suited well
The heir of some illustrious line,
Heroes and chieftains of the Rhine!”
Then swift through Albert’s bosom pass’d
One pang, the keenest and the last,
Ere with his spirit fled the fears,
The sorrows, and the pangs of years;
And, while his gray hairs swept the dust,