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193

THE COMPLAINT,

&c.

Before I see another day,
Oh let my body die away!

In sleep I heard the northern gleams;
The stars they were among my dreams;

In sleep did I behold the skies,

I saw the crackling flashes drive;

And yet they are upon my eyes,

And yet I am alive.

Before I see another day,

Oh let my body die away!

N

My fire is dead it knew no pain;
Yet is it dead, and I remain.

All stiff with ice the ashes lie;

And they are dead, and I will die.

When I was well, I wished to live,

For clothes, for warmth, for food, and fire;

But they to me no joy can give,

No pleasure now, and no desire.

Then here contented will I lie ;

Alone I cannot fear to die.

Alas! you might have dragged me on

Another day, a single one!

Too soon despair o'er me prevailed;

Too soon my heartless spirit failed;

When you were gone my limbs were stronger,

And Oh how grievously I rue,

That, afterwards, a little longer,

My friends, I did not follow you!
For strong and without pain I lay,
My friends, when you were gone away.

My child! they gave thee to another,

A woman who was not thy mother.
When from my arms my babe they took,
On me how strangely did he look!
Through his whole body something ran,

A most strange something did I see;
—As if he strove to be a man,

That he might pull the sledge for me.

And then he stretched his arms, how wild!

Oh mercy! like a little child.

My little joy my little pride!

In two days more I must have died.
Then do not weep and grieve for me;

I feel I must have died with thee.

Oh wind that o'er my head art flying,
The way my friends their course did bend,

I should not feel the pain of dying,
Could I with thee a message send.

Too soon, my friends, you went away;
For I had many things to say.

I'll follow you across the snow,

You travel heavily and slow :

In spite of all my weary pain,

I'll look upon your tents again.
My fire is dead, and snowy white
The water which beside it stood;
The wolf has come to me to-night,
And he has stolen away my food.

For ever left alone am I,

Then wherefore should I fear to die?

My journey will be shortly run,

I shall not see another sun,

I cannot lift my limbs to know

If they have any life or no.
My poor forsaken child! if I

For once could have thee close to me,
With happy heart I then would die,
And my last thoughts would happy be.
I feel my body die away,

I shall not see another day.

THE CONVICT.

The glory of evening was spread through the west; -On the slope of a mountain I stood,

While the joy that precedes the calm season of rest Rang loud through the meadow and wood.

"And must we then part from a dwelling so fair?"

In the pain of my spirit I said,

And with a deep sadness I turned, to repair
To the cell where the convict is laid.

The thick-ribbed walls that o'ershadow the gate
Resound; and the dungeons unfold:

I pause; and at length, through the glimmering grate
That outcast of pity behold.

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