Classic Poem

Ye stars! so small, so bright,
So beautiful, whose ray
Has led me thro' the night —
Has lighted all my way.

And thou, most fair of all,
The first — the morning star,
At whose awakening call,
I sought my love afar.

T HOU moon, in clouds bedight,
So distantly above,
Thou bringest to my sight
My pure and distant love.

M Y father oft to me,
While yet an infant, said: —
" Poor boy! his lot will be
To fare on bitter bread. "

M Y mother o'er me sigh'd,
And said — " Poor child! for him,
Life's cup will be supplied
From parch'd and scanty stream. "

And oft my brother's tongue
Said — " Luckless boy! take heed,
For, O! thou hast been flung
Upon a sorry steed. "

M Y sister too replied —
All love, all kindness she:
" The sabre at his side
Hangs not becomingly. "

M Y friends cried — " O, beware,
And ne'er to battle go:
For pain and death are there,
Thou may'st not meet a foe. "

I WENT to battle — met
A foe — and now I die:
To her I worshipped — yet
I turn my dying eye.

I SIT upon my tomb,
My friends are far away:
And ere they know my doom,
The worm will seize its prey.

T HEN grave a grave for me,
Within yon grassy wood,
For there my love shall be,
In evening's solitude.

O! IF that angel hie
With gentlest greetings there:
I ask no tear — no sigh —
But one — one hallowed prayer.