Than life's expiring pang can give:--
He dies deserted, and alone--
If pity can allay thy woes
Sad spirit they shall find repose--
Thy friend, thy long-lov'd friend is near!
He comes to pour the parting tear,
He comes to catch the parting breath--
Ah heaven! no melting look he wears,
His alter'd eye with vengeance glares;
Each frantic passion at his soul,
'Tis he has dash'd that venom'd bowl
With agony, and death.

[A] Sir Thomas Overbury, poisoned in the Tower by Somerset.

VIII.

But whence arose that solemn call?
Yon bloody phantom waves his hand,
And beckons me to deeper gloom--
Rest, troubled form! I come--
Some unknown power my step impels
To horror's secret cells--
"For thee I raise this sable pall,
"It shrouds a ghastly band:
"Stretch'd beneath, thy eye shall trace
"A mangled regal race:
"A thousand suns have roll'd, since light
"Rush'd on their solid night--
"See, o'er that tender frame grim famine hangs,
"And mocks a mother's pangs!
"The last, last drop which warm'd her veins
"That meagre infant drains--
"Then gnaws her fond, sustaining breast--
"Stretch'd on her feeble knees, behold
"Another victim sinks to lasting rest--
"Another, yet her matron arms would fold
"Who strives to reach her matron arms in vain--
"Too weak her wasted form to raise,
"On him she bends her eager gaze;
"She sees the soft imploring eye
"That asks her dear embrace, the cure of pain--
"She sees her child at distance die--
"But now her stedfast heart can bear
"Unmov'd, the pressure of despair--
"When first the winds of winter urge their course
"O'er the pure stream, whose current smoothly glides,
"The heaving river swells its troubled tides;
"But when the bitter blast with keener force,
"O'er the high wave an icy fetter throws,
"The harden'd wave is fix'd in dead repose."--

IX.

"Say who that hoary form? alone he stands,
"And meekly lifts his wither'd hands--
"His white beard streams with blood--
"I see him with a smile, deride
"The wounds that pierce his shrivel'd side,
"Whence flows a purple flood--
"But sudden pangs his bosom tear--
"On one big drop, of deeper dye,
"I see him fix his haggard eye
"In dark, and wild despair!
"That sanguine drop which wakes his woe--
"Say, spirit! whence its source."--
"Ask no more its source to know--
"Ne'er shall mortal eye explore
"Whence flow'd tha