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. Ode to the Conduit Vale, Blackheath
2. Laura to Petrarch
3. The Lamentation of Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots
4. The Spirit’s Song
5. Epitaph for My Father

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