POETIC FRAGMENTS. FIFTH SERIES.
51
Literary Gazette, 17th December, 1825, Page 812
Third.
Last night the midnight wind,
Along my casement past,
And a distant funeral bell
Came tolling on the blast.
Envy mingled with my awe,
As I hearkened to the tone;
I thought of the quiet grave,
And wished it were mine own.
Life is a torrid day,
Parched with the dust and sun;
And death's the calm cool night,
When the weary day is done.
L. E. L.
