“
Come Grief, and sing a solemn dirgeAnd tread the lonely glade.
— Ann Eliza Bleecker
Come Grief, and sing a solemn dirgeAnd tread the lonely glade.
Though such the darkness of my soul,'Midst billows of despair.
Tell me thou all pervading mind,Each sweet connection break?
How shall I leave thee, oh! my love,'Twill be no heav'n to me.
There give thy griefs full vent to flowBut my attendant shade.
