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Letitia Elizabeth Landon - Scenes In London II - Oxford StreetLetitia Elizabeth Landon - Scenes In London II - Oxford Street
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LIFE in its many shapes was there, The busy and the gay; Faces that seemed too young and fair To ever know decay. Wealth, with its waste, its pomp, and pride, Led forth its glittering train; And poverty`s pale face beside Asked aid, and asked in vain. The shops were filled from many lands, Toys, silks, and gems, and flowers; The patient work of many hands, The hope of many hours. Yet, mid life`s myriad shapes around There was a sigh of death; There rose a melancholy sound, The bugle`s wailing breath. They played a mournful Scottish air, That on its native hill Had caught the notes the night-winds bear From weeping leaf and rill. `Twas strange to hear that sad wild strain Its warning music shed, Rising above life`s busy train, In memory of the dead. There came a slow and silent band In sad procession by: Reversed the musket in each hand, And downcast every eye. They bore the soldier to his grave; The sympathyzing crowd Divided like a parted wave By some dark vessel ploughed. A moment, and all sounds were mute, For awe was over all; You heard the soldier`s measured foot, The bugle`s wailing call. The gloves were laid upon the bier, The helmet and the sword, The drooping war-horse followed near, As he, too, mourned his lord. Slowly—I followed too—they led To where a church arose, And flung a shadow o`er the dead, Deep as their own repose. Green trees were there—beneath the shade Of one, was made a grave; And there to his last rest was laid The weary and the brave. They fired a volley o`er the bed Of an unconscious ear; The birds sprang fluttering overhead, Struck with a sudden fear. All left the ground, the bugles died Away upon the wind; Only the tree`s green branches sighed O`er him they left behind. Again, all filled with light and breath, I passed the crowded street— Oh, great extremes of life and death, How strangely do ye meet!
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