SUDDEN DEATH OF A LADY.
No sound the ear of Midnight heard,
No ripple woke the stream,
No breath the slumbering rose-leaf stirred
Nor marred Affection's dream:
On Winter's pavement, sheen and cold,
There was no echoing tread,
No hand upon the curtain's fold,
Yet on the Spoiler sped.
The Spoiler Spirit! what sought he
Within that blissful bower!—
The gold on which Care turns the key
To thwart the robber's power!
Pale, gleaming pearls that er'st did glow
Down in the deep, dark seas?
The diamond or the ruby? No!
He came not forth for these.
Morn rose, and sweet the sabbath-bell
From tower and dell did break,
And with a high and solemn swell
Glad praise God's temple spake:
But where is she, with form of grace,
With cheek serenely fair,
Who near God's altar loved the place?
Go ask the Spoiler where!
