Page:Sweet Hellen of the Dee.pdf/3

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To foreign climes he then was sent,
to please parental pride;
Reluctantly poor Henry went,
left Ellen's charms, and died!
They griev'd too late, his fate to hear,
and curs'd the stern decree,
Which pride inspir'd, his heart to tear
from Ellen of the Dee.

Who still, when ev'ning softly flings
her shadows o'er the glade,
On Dee's lone margin strays and sings
sweet dirges to his shade.
Tho' happiness be not her lot,
no murmurs utters she;
Meek resignation shares the cot
with Ellen of the Dee.

THE WOOD MAN.

Say, traveller, tarry here to-night,
the rain yet beats, the wind is loud,
The moon has too withdrawn her light,
and gone to sleep within a cloud;