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Poem by Samuel Lover

The Forsaken

Let us talk of grief no more
 Till the bat is flying;
Fitter mem'ry's sadd'ning lore
 When the day is dying,
When the joyous sun hath fled,
And weeping dews around are shed:
Sad things are most fitly said,
 When the night wind's sighing.

Sighing round some lonely tow'r
 Where, within, is mourning;
And on the hearth, at midnight hour,
 Low the brands are burning.
There the embers, fading fast,
(Relics of a glowing past)
Tell of fires too fierce to last:Ч
 Love knows no returning.

Samuel Lover

Samuel Lover's other poems:
  1. Rory O'More
  2. Old Westminster Hall
  3. The May-Dew
  4. The Fairy Boy
  5. Barney O'Hea

Poems of the other poets with the same name:

  • Thomas Hood The Forsaken ("The dead are in their silent graves")
  • Amy Lowell The Forsaken ("Holy Mother of God, Merciful Mary. Hear")
  • Duncan Scott The Forsaken ("Once in the winter")

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