Once more I fee thy fheeted spectre stand,

Roll the dim eye, and wave the paly hand!

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"Soon may this fluttering spark of vital flame
Forfake its languid melancholy frame!
Soon may thefe eyes their trembling luftre close,
Welcome the dreamless night of long repose !

Soon may this woe-worn spirit seek the bourne

Where, lull'd to flumber, Grief forgets to mourn !"

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SONG S.

THE WOUNDED HUSSAR.

ALONE to the banks of the dark-rolling Danube

Fair Adelaide hied when the battle was o'er:

O whither, fhe cried, haft thou wander'd, my lover;
Or here doft thou welter, and bleed on the fhore?

What voice did I hear? 'twas my Henry that figh'd! 5
All mournful fhe haften'd, nor wander'd fhe far,
When bleeding, and low, on the heath fhe defcried,

By the light of the moon, her poor wounded Huffar!

From his bofom that heav'd, the last torrent was streaming,

And pale was his visage, deep mark'd with a scar; ro And dim was that eye, once expreffively beaming,

That melted in love, and that kindled in war!

How fmit was poor Adelaide's heart at the fight!
How bitter fhe wept o'er the victim of war!

Haft thou come, my fond Love, this laft forrowful night,
To cheer the lone heart of your wounded Huffar? 16

Thou shalt live, fhe replied, Heav'n's mercy relieving Each anguishing wound, fhall forbid me to mourn! Ah, no! the laft pang in my bosom is heaving!

No light of the morn fhall to Henry return!

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