Poem by Anne Hunter

The Dirge of Amoret

WHY glide the hours so swift away,
When love and fortune shine?
Years seem'd but as a passing day,
When Amoret was mine.
Was mine ! sad sounds, ye ring my knell,
And bid to joy a long farewell!
Her voice could sooth the soul of care,
And lull despair to rest;
Why was she form'd divinely fair?
And why was I so bless'd?
So bless'd no more; I hear the knell,
Which bids the world a long farewell. 

1. Laura to Petrarch
2. Ode to the Conduit Vale, Blackheath
3. The Lamentation of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots
4. Song 4. THE moments fly, and we must part
5. Epitaph for My Father

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