Classic Poem

Veil, veil thee, thou unfeeling queen of night,
Nor force my tongue to execrate thy rays;
For, oh! Elwinna saw by thy pale light,
A scene that blasted all her blissful days.

Slowly the warriors trod the dewy plain,
My dying Edgar on their shields they bore;
I saw the crimson flood his bosom stain;
He look'd, he sigh'd, but, ah! he spoke no more.

Canst thou forget how oft, when thy bright beam,
'Broider'd with silver Nature's verdant vest,
And scatter'd gems on Severn's lucid stream, —
How oft with Edgar thou hast seen me blest?

That o'er his turf, while I sad vigils keep,
Thou canst thus coldly, thus serenely sleep!