Page:Bürger's Lenore, Rossetti 1900.djvu/25

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21
Lenore

From man to man all wildly she ran
 With a swift and searching eye;
But she felt alone in the mighty mass,
 As it crushed and crowded by:
On hurried the troop,—a gladsome group,—
And proudly the tall plumes wave and droop:
She tore her hair and she turned her round,
And madly she dashed her against the ground.


Her mother clasped her tenderly
 With soothing words and mild:
"My child, may God look down on thee,—
 God comfort thee, my child."
"Oh! mother, mother! gone is gone!
I reck no more how the world runs on:
What pity to me does God impart?
Woe, woe, woe! for my heavy heart! "