The Swedish Stranger

The Swedish Stranger

No children wept o'er thee;

No wife mourned thy doom,

But strangers have laid thee

Within the dark tomb

Oh! thine was the sorrow

That knoweth no care,

That clouds the bright morrow

Too dark to endure.

Oh! none soothed thy pillow;

No ear heard thy sigh;

Far away o'er the billow,

Alone thou didst die.

Ah! why from thy lov'd home,

Why didst thou depart,

On the blue wave to roam

From the friends of thy heart?

When with life thou didst part,

And no lov'd one was near -

Oh breathed there a heart

Could refuse thee a tear,

Or that, cold as the moist clay

That covers thy breast,

Could still tranquilly lie

In its passionless rest?

The night wind is sighing

A requiem, near

Where cold thou art lying

In loneliness drear.

No willow bends o'er thee;

No stone marks the spot,

But dark weeds around thee,

Prove thou art forgot.

Unattributed

1:10, p. 40

1827.05.18

From the New York Mirror