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NORA.
��'TWAS in the " green and weeping isle, Which like an emerald glows,
On the dark bosom of the deep, In beautiful repose,
That widow'd Nora rear'd her boy,
Her only one, and fair, With raven eye of eagle-glance,
And richly clustering hair.
And joyously she nurtur'd him,
The child of wit and glee, As free and fearless as the winds
That swept his native sea,
As true of heart, as strong of hand,
As reckless of the foe, As were his noble house, before
Affliction laid them low.
And when to sudden youth he sprang 'Twas sweet to see her glide,
�� �
