TRACY DE VORE AND HUBERT GREY.
Death gave no warning there; but struck
With a fierce and cruel blow:
Like the barb that sinks from hand unseen
In the heart of the bounding foe.
With a fierce and cruel blow:
Like the barb that sinks from hand unseen
In the heart of the bounding foe.
The mother laments with a maniac's grief;
Her sobbing is bitterly loud:
Her eye is fix'd on her mangled boy,
As he lies in his winding shroud.
Her sobbing is bitterly loud:
Her eye is fix'd on her mangled boy,
As he lies in his winding shroud.
The herdsman's voice hath lost its tone;
His brow is shaded o'er:
There's a hopeless anguish in his breast,
That he never felt before.
His brow is shaded o'er:
There's a hopeless anguish in his breast,
That he never felt before.
There's a tear on his check when the sun gets up;
He sighs at the close of day:
His mates would offer the cheering cup;
But he turns his lip away.
He mourns for the one that promised well
To walk his land like another Tell.
He sighs at the close of day:
His mates would offer the cheering cup;
But he turns his lip away.
He mourns for the one that promised well
To walk his land like another Tell.
The doleful tidings speed swiftly on
Of the promising spirits for ever gone:
And the words fall sadly on the ear
Of every listening mountaineer.
Of the promising spirits for ever gone:
And the words fall sadly on the ear
Of every listening mountaineer.
They grieve for their own, their free-born child;
Nestled and rear'd 'mid the vast and wild:
For there trod not the hills a dearer one
To the hearts of all than the herdsman's son.
Nestled and rear'd 'mid the vast and wild:
For there trod not the hills a dearer one
To the hearts of all than the herdsman's son.
14
