Fate gave the word, the
arrow sped,
And pierc'd my darling's heart;
And with him all the joys
are fled
Life can to me impart.
By cruel hands the
sapling drops,
In dust dishonours'd laid;
So fell the pride of all my
hopes,
My age's future shade.
The mother-Linnet in the
brake
Bewails her ravish'd
young,
So I, for my lost darling's
sake,
Lament the live-day long.
Death, oft I've feared thy
fatal blow.
Now, fond, I bare my
breast;
O, do thou kindly lay me
low
With him I love, at rest!
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