SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.—No. 12.
Away! away! ye hopes which stray
Like jeering spectres from the tomb!
Ye cannot light the coming night,
And shall not mock its gathering gloom;
Though dark the cloud shall form my shroud—
Though danger league with racking doubt—
Away! away! ye shall not stay
When all my joys are “up the spout!”
I little knew when first ye threw