Elegy to the Memory of an Unfortunate Lady
What beckoning ghost, along the moonlight shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? 'Tis she!--but why that bleeding bosom gored, Why dimly gleams...
This is a poetry & verse.
What beckoning ghost, along the moonlight shade Invites my steps, and points to yonder glade? 'Tis she! --but why that bleeding bosom gored, Why dimly gleams the visionary sword? Oh, ever beauteous, ever friendly! tell, Is it, in heaven, a crime to love too well? To bear too tender, or too firm a heart, To act a lover's or a Roman's part?…
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