Hector Macneill

An Elegy

Relentless Death! -- ah! why so soon
    Cut down the flow'ret fair to view!
Pale gleam'd the light of yonder moon,
    When pest'lence shed her deadly dew!

The morn arose serene and clear,
    The sun refulgent glow'd at noon;
But nought the drooping flower could cheer.
    Ah! wherefore droop'd the flower so soon!

By yonder tree (his fav'rite shade,
    Where late he joy'd with sports and play)
They dig his grave; there, lowly laid
    Sleeps Campbell's silent senseless clay!

Ah! what avails the tear and sigh,
    That close, lov'd boy! thy funeral gloom!
The doleful dirge, and frantic cry
    Of Afric's mourners round thy tomb!

Ah! what avails! -- But cease the strain;
    Ye weeping parents, dry the tear.
See! Philomela joints the train,
      And chants a requiem o'er his bier.

Sweetly she warbles, perch'd on high,
    Far from her mate and haunts of even;
She comes, an herald from the sky,
    To greet the cherub soul to heaven!

Yet here should pensive pilgrim stray
    At soft'ning eve, or fervent noon,
Here may we heave the sigh and say,
    'Ah! wherefore droop'd the flow'r so soon!'