Page:Poems Holford.djvu/114

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
102
a ballad.
"Of a cheek like this to wither the bloom
Alas! 'tis a deadly crime!
So I'll sit no more by the lonely tomb,
'Tis good to repent in time."

Then her maidens braided her yellow hair,
And with jewels deck'd her brow;
And they tinted that Lady's cheek so fair,
With the rose-bud's softest glow.

And her mantle of silk it floated proud
Around her slender form,
While her Lord lay wrapt in his mould'ring shroud,
A feast for the crawling worm!

But the dead are gone, and we may be gay;
Time mocks us from our sorrow,