Then woo me not to sculptured halls, Where pride and beauty throng; Far lovelier is my mountain-home, The wild-wood paths among; And though the hopes by boyhood nursed Have vanish'd like the dew, In Memory's light they bless my sight With charms for ever new.
ELEGIAC LINES.
BY THE LATE GEN. J. MORTON.
While you, my friend, with tearful eye, These soft elegiac lines read o'er, And while you heave the tender sigh For lov'd Amanda now no more.
This lesson from her tear-dew'd urn, Where conscious worth, where virtue bleeds, This lesson from Amanda learn,— That death, nor worth, nor virtue heeds.
That he alike his ruthless reign Does o'er each age, each sex, extend, That he ne'er heeds the lover's pain, Ne'er heeds the anguish of a friend.
But in the height of Beauty's bloom, Each dear connexion of the heart, He points them to the gloomy tomb, He bids them—and they must depart.