28 IIENP.Y KIKKE -WIIITE's POEMS. 



And doom me on some foreign shore to die ; 

 Oh ! should it please the world's supernal King, 

 Tliat weltering waves my funeral dirge shall sing ; 

 Or that my corse should, on some desert strand, 

 Lie strelchd beneath the Simoom's blasting hand ; 

 Still, though unwept I find a stranger tomb, 

 My sprite shall wander through this favourite gloom, 

 Ride on the wind that sweeps the leafless grove, 

 Sigh on the wood-blast of the dark alcove, 

 Sit, a lorn spectre, on yon v/ell-lmown grave, 

 And mix its moanings with the desert waves 



