What tho` no sculptur`d monument proclaim Thy fate-yet Albert in my breast I bear Inshrin`d the sad remembrance; yet thy name Will fill my throbbing bosom. When DESPAIR The child of murdered HOPE, fed on thy heart, Loved honored friend, I saw thee sink forlorn Pierced to the soul by cold Neglect`s keen dart, And Penury`s hard ills, and pitying Scorn, And the dark spectre of departed JOY Inhuman MEMORY. Often on thy grave Love I the solitary hour to employ Thinking on other days; and heave the sigh Responsive, when I mark the high grass wave Sad sounding as the cold breeze rustles by.SourceThe script ran 0.002 seconds.
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