by J.W. Dalby [John Watson Dalby].
Originally published in The Poet's Magazine (Leonard Lloyd) vol.2 #15 (Nov 1877).
No path now lies before me, no, not one!
Save that which leads me to my lost love's grave;
No hope beyond, no guest besides I have.
Neabrunn! if thou desert me, then, alone
I go; nor gloom of night, nor winds' invivid moan.
Shall me restrain: a broken heart can brave
Hells' legioned spirits, nor assistance crave,
Itself already a lost spirit grown.
The trembling girl went with her; saw her seek
The mangled corse where the unburied lay;
The lovely and the lifeless were united.
She pressed her arm against his pallid cheek,
And with one sigh the life-blood ebbed away:
Death sealed and sanctified the vows she plighted.
1. See Schiller's "Wallenstein."