126 HENRY KIRKE WHITE's POEMS. 



Shall think my lot complete, nor covet more 

 And when, with time, shall wane the vital fire, 



I'll raise my pillow on the desert shore, 

 And lay me down to rest where the wild wave 

 Shall make sweet music o'er my lonely grave. 



SONNET III * 



Supposed to have been addressed by a Female Lunatic to a Lady. 

 Lady, thou weepest for the Maniac's woe, 



And thou art fair, and thou, like me art young, 

 Oh may thy bosom never, never know 



The pangs with which my wretched heart is wrung. 

 I had a mother once — a brother too — 



(Beneath yon yew my father rests his head :) 

 I had a lover once, — and kind, and true, 



But mother, brother, lover, all are fled ! 

 Yet, whence the tear, which dims thy lovely eye ? 



Oh I gentle lady — not for me thus weep, 

 The green sod soon upon my breast will lie, 



And soft and sound will be my peaceful sleep. 

 Go thou, and pluck the roses while they bloom — 



My hopes lie buried in the silent tomb. 



SONNET IV. 



Supposed to he ivritten by the unliappy Poet Bermody, in a stCJTW, 

 while on board a ship in His Majesty's service. 



Lo ! o'er the welkin the tempestuous clouds 

 Successive fly, and the loud-piping wind 



Rocks the poor sea-boy on the dripping shrouds, 

 While the pale pilot o'er the helm reclined, 



Lists to the changeful storm : and as he plies 

 His wakeful task, he oft bethinks him sad, 

 Of wife, and little home, and chubby lad, 



* This quatorzain had its rise from an elegant sonnet, " occasiojiod 

 ■by seeing a young female lunatic," written by Mrs LofFt, and pnb 

 lished in the " Monthly Mirror." 



