270
"And didst thou see a horrid dream
With pale affright?"
"O no! it was no frightful dream—
It was a shadow on the stream,
But not of night.
"It wore a wreath upon its head,
And took its flight;
Borne on the rapid stream it fled
With the green wreath upon its head—
My hopes to spite."
The maiden in the flowing stream,
Dry hemp doth lay;
Her tears are falling in the stream,
Her blue eyes paled with life's last gleam
That flits away.FINIS.
T. C. Hansard, Printer,
Paternoster-row.
