From his bosom that heav'd, the last torrent was streaming, And pale was his visage, deep mark'd with a scar; And dim was that eye, once expressively beaming, That melted in love, and that kindled in war! 10 How smit was poor Adelaide's heart at the sight! Hast thou come, my fond Love, this last sorrowful night, Thou shalt live, she replied, Heav'n's mercy relieving No light of the morn shall to Henry return! 20 Thou charmer of life, ever tender and true : Ye babes of my love that await me afar !— His faultering tongue scarce could murmur adieu, When he sunk in her arms- -the poor wounded Hussar ! GILDEROY. THE last, the fatal hour is come, That bears my love from me; I hear the dead note of the drum, I mark the gallows tree! The bell has toll'd; it shakes my heart; The trumpet speaks thy name; And must my Gilderoy depart To bear a death of shame? No bosom trembles for thy doom; No mourner wipes a tear; 5 10 |