Thy lovely features rise:
I strive to think thee less unkind,
And wipe my streaming eyes.

"For only thee I had to vaunt,
Thou wert thy mother's pride:
She left thee like a shooting plant
To screen my widow'd side.

"But thou hast left me weak, forlorn,
And chill'd with age's frost,
To count my weary days, and mourn
The comforts I have lost.

"Unkindly fair! why did'st thou go?
O, had I known the truth!
Tho' Edward's father was my foe,
I would have bless'd the youth.

"O could I see that face again,
Whose smile calm'd ev'ry strife!
And hear that voice, which sooth'd my pain,
And made me wish for life!

"Thy harp hangs silent by the wall:
My nights are sad and long:
And thou art in a distant hall,
Where strangers raise the song.

"Ha! some delusion of the mind