NOW lock my chamber-door, father, And say you left me sleeping; But never tell my step-mother Of all this bitter weeping. No earthly sleep can ease my smart, Or even awhile reprieve it; For there's a pang at my young heart That never more can leave it! Oh, let me lie, and weep my fill O'er wounds that heal can never And oh, kind Heaven! were it thy will, To close these eyes for ever. For how can maid's affections dear Recall her love unshaken? Or how can heart of maiden bear To know that heart forsaken? Oh, why should vows so fondly made, Be broken ere the morrow -- To one who loved as never maid Loved in this world of sorrow! The look of scorn I cannot brave, Nor pity's eye more dreary; A quiet sleep within the grave Is all for which I weary! Farewell, dear Yarrow's mountains green, And banks of broom so yellow! Too happy has this bosom been Within your arbours mellow. That happiness is fled for ay, And all is dark desponding -- Save in the opening gates of day, And the dear home beyond them! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE-GRINDER by GEORGE CANNING SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 7. THEY MEET AGAIN by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS THE BROWN GIANT by ALEXANDER ANDERSON BOTHWELL: PART 1 by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN THE FIGHT WITH THE SNAPPING TURTLE; OR, THE AMERICAN ST. GEORGE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN |