lament for nathaniel m'lain.
31
And she, the chosen of thy heart,
The tender and the true,
Has gazed her last upon thy face,
And wept her last adieu.
The tender and the true,
Has gazed her last upon thy face,
And wept her last adieu.
Yet vain our sorrows, vain our tears;
Though never vain the spell
That lingers round a sister's heart,
When she has said farewell
To one, who e'en from childhood's hour
Has grown up by her side,
From all its witching tenderness,
To manhood's joyous pride.
Though never vain the spell
That lingers round a sister's heart,
When she has said farewell
To one, who e'en from childhood's hour
Has grown up by her side,
From all its witching tenderness,
To manhood's joyous pride.
Then bid me not to dry my tears.
Nor bid me cease to mourn,—
The deep, deep love that stirs my soul,
With life's first breath was born.
Brother! the memory of thy worth
Shall live within my breast,
And point me to that sacred home,
Where thou hast found a rest.
Nor bid me cease to mourn,—
The deep, deep love that stirs my soul,
With life's first breath was born.
Brother! the memory of thy worth
Shall live within my breast,
And point me to that sacred home,
Where thou hast found a rest.
