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Poem by Anne Hunter


Lelia, or, The Maniac's Song


COME, ye wild winds, that round the welkin fly,
Bear the sad Lelia on your wings of air,
Then shall she downward cast a pitying eye
On all the troubled sons of toilsome care.
I had a friend, she prov'd unkind;
I had a love, he prov'd untrue;
Where they are fled, I cannot find;
A dark dark cloud obscures my view.
Hark! is not that a passing bell?
Affection in the grave is laid;
Some kindred spirit tolls her knell,
And love, perhaps, himself is dead.
When the cock crows, and morn is come,
A pilgrim grey I'll seek their tomb:

Ah no, alas! my hands are bound,
Dark walls and grates inclose me round,
Sad Lelia sits alone on the cold cold ground.



Anne Hunter


Anne Hunter's other poems:
  1. Song 6. IN airy dreams fond fancy flies
  2. Addressed to Mrs. G.
  3. Song 5. FAR, far from me my love is fled
  4. To the Memory of Thomas Chatterton
  5. Song 10. O Tuneful voice, I still deplore

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