To death on life's dark river.

2.
The stream we gazed on then rolled by;
Its waves are unreturning;
But we yet stand _10
In a lone land,
Like tombs to mark the memory
Of hopes and fears, which fade and flee
In the light of life's dim morning.

***


DEATH.

[Published by Mrs. Shelley in "Posthumous Poems", 1824.]

1.
They die--the dead return not--Misery
Sits near an open grave and calls them over,
A Youth with hoary hair and haggard eye--
They are the names of kindred, friend and lover,
Which he so feebly calls--they all are gone-- _5
Fond wretch, all dead! those vacant names alone,
This most familiar scene, my pain--
These tombs--alone remain.

2.
Misery, my sweetest friend--oh, weep no more!