Pocahontas - Part 48

Gone? Gone? Alas! the burst of wild despair
That rent his bosom who had loved so well;
He had not yet put forth his strength to bear,
So suddenly and sore the death-shaft fell.
Man hath a godlike might in danger's hour,
In the red battle, or the tempest's power;
Yet is he weak when tides of anguish swell.
Ah, who can mark with cold and tearless eyes
The grief of stricken man when his sole idol dies!
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