the betrayed.
135
The Betrayed.
Day's glad orb was brightly flinging
O'er creation joy and light,
From earth's fostering bosom bringing
All of life that's pure and bright;
Summer breezes, softly sighing,
Through an open casement played,
Where a fair young girl lay dying,
Lone, and lovely, and betrayed.
O'er creation joy and light,
From earth's fostering bosom bringing
All of life that's pure and bright;
Summer breezes, softly sighing,
Through an open casement played,
Where a fair young girl lay dying,
Lone, and lovely, and betrayed.
But the breeze, so soft and fragrant,
Could to her no comfort yield,
For the life blood, cold and stagnant,
Felt as if to ice congeal'd;
And the beams which woke the blossom,
Making glad the summer air,
Only mocked her withered bosom,
And her brow of pain and care:
Could to her no comfort yield,
For the life blood, cold and stagnant,
Felt as if to ice congeal'd;
And the beams which woke the blossom,
Making glad the summer air,
Only mocked her withered bosom,
And her brow of pain and care:
But her days and nights of mourning
Fast approached that final close,
When the "dust to dust returning,"
Rests in deep and still repose.
Lo! a stranger bending o'er her,
Wipes the death dews from her brow—
But the light grows dim before her,
And her breath is fainter now.
Fast approached that final close,
When the "dust to dust returning,"
Rests in deep and still repose.
Lo! a stranger bending o'er her,
Wipes the death dews from her brow—
But the light grows dim before her,
And her breath is fainter now.
