---

Robert Southey - The Widow
Work rating: Low

Cold was the night wind, drifting fast the snows fell,
Wide were the downs and shelterless and naked,
When a poor Wanderer struggled on her journey
        Weary and way-sore.

Drear were the downs, more dreary her reflexions;
Cold was the night wind, colder was her bosom!
She had no home, the world was all before her,
        She had no shelter.

Fast o`er the bleak heath rattling drove a chariot,
"Pity me!" feebly cried the poor night wanderer.
"Pity me Strangers! lest with cold and hunger
        Here I should perish.

"Once I had friends,—but they have all forsook me!
"Once I had parents,—they are now in Heaven!
"I had a home once—I had once a husband—
        "Pity me Strangers!

"I had a home once—I had once a husband—
"I am a Widow poor and broken-hearted!"
Loud blew the wind, unheard was her complaining.
        On drove the chariot.

On the cold snows she laid her down to rest her;
She heard a horseman, "pity me!" she groan`d out;
Loud blew the wind, unheard was her complaining,
        On went the horseman.

Worn out with anguish, toil and cold and hunger,
Down sunk the Wanderer, sleep had seiz`d her senses;
There, did the Traveller find her in the morning,
        GOD had releast her.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.