Classic Poem

‘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 dishonor'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 fear'd thy fatal blow;
Now, fond, I bare my breast;
O, do thou come and lay me low,
With him I love at rest!