Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 21 and 22 1827.pdf/6

And the swift charger sweep
    In full career,
Trampling thy place of sleep
    Why cam'st thou here?

Why?—Ask the true heart why
    Woman hath been
Ever, where brave men die,
    Unshrinking seen?

Unto this harvest-ground
    Proud reapers came—
Some for that stirring sound,
    A Warrior's name:

Some for the stormy play,
    And joy of strife;
And some to fling away
    A weary life.

But thou, pale Sleeper! thou
    With the slight frame,
And the rich locks, whose glow
    Death cannot tame:

Only one thought, one power,
    Thee could have led,
So through the tempest's hour
    To lift thy head!

Only the true, the strong,
    The love, whose trust
Woman's deep soul too long
    Pours on the dust.
F. H.