Wake not the Dead
"Wilt thou for ever sleep? Wilt thou never more awake, my beloved, but
henceforth repose for ever from thy short pilgrimage on earth? O yet
once again return! and bring back with thee the vivifying dawn of hope
to one whose existence hath, since thy departure, been obscured by the
dunnest shades. What! dumb? for ever dumb? Thy friend lamenteth, and
thou heedest him not? He sheds bitter, scalding tears, and thou
reposest unregarding his affliction? He is in despair, and thou no
longer openest thy arms to him as an asylum from his grief? Say then,
doth the paly shroud become thee better than the bridal veil? Is the
chamber of the grave a warmer bed than the couch of love? Is the
spectre death more welcome to thy arms than thy enamoured consort? Oh!
return, my beloved, return once again to this anxious disconsolate
bosom."
Such were the lamentations which Walter poured forth for his
Brunhilda, the partner of his youthful passionate love; thus did he
bewail over her grave at the midnight hour, what time the spirit that
presides in the troublous atmosphere, sends his legions of monsters
through mid-air; so that their shadows, as they flit beneath the moon
and across the earth, dart as wild, agitating thoughts that chase each
other o'er the sinner's bosom:--thus did he lament under the tall
linden trees by her grave, while his head reclined on the cold stone.
Walter was a powerful lord in Burgundy, who, in his earliest youth,
had been smitten with the charms of the fair Brunhilda, a beauty far
surpassing in loveliness all her rivals; for her tresses, dark as the
raven face of night, streaming over her shoulders, set off to the
utmost advantage the beaming lustre of her slender form, and the rich
dye of a cheek whose tint was deep and brilliant as that of the
western heaven; her eyes did not resemble those burning orbs whose
pale glow gems the vault of night, and whose immeasurable distance
fills the soul with deep thoughts of eternity, but rather as the sober
beams which cheer this nether world, and which, while they enlighten,
kindle the sons of earth to joy and love. Brunhilda became the wife of
Walter, and both being equally enamoured and devoted, they abandoned
themselves to the enjoyment of a passion that rendered them reckless
of aught besides, while it lulled them in a fascinating dream. Their
sole apprehension was lest aught should awaken them from a delirium
which they prayed might continue for ever. Yet how vain is the wish
that would arrest the decrees of destiny! as well might it seek to
divert the circling planets from their eternal course. Short was the
duration of this phrenzied passion; not that it gradually decayed and
subsided into apathy, but death snatched away his blooming victim, and
left Walter to a widowed couch. Impetuous, however, as was his first
burst of grief, he was not inconsolable, for ere long another bride
became the partner of the youthful nobleman.
1015381474
henceforth repose for ever from thy short pilgrimage on earth? O yet
once again return! and bring back with thee the vivifying dawn of hope
to one whose existence hath, since thy departure, been obscured by the
dunnest shades. What! dumb? for ever dumb? Thy friend lamenteth, and
thou heedest him not? He sheds bitter, scalding tears, and thou
reposest unregarding his affliction? He is in despair, and thou no
longer openest thy arms to him as an asylum from his grief? Say then,
doth the paly shroud become thee better than the bridal veil? Is the
chamber of the grave a warmer bed than the couch of love? Is the
spectre death more welcome to thy arms than thy enamoured consort? Oh!
return, my beloved, return once again to this anxious disconsolate
bosom."
Such were the lamentations which Walter poured forth for his
Brunhilda, the partner of his youthful passionate love; thus did he
bewail over her grave at the midnight hour, what time the spirit that
presides in the troublous atmosphere, sends his legions of monsters
through mid-air; so that their shadows, as they flit beneath the moon
and across the earth, dart as wild, agitating thoughts that chase each
other o'er the sinner's bosom:--thus did he lament under the tall
linden trees by her grave, while his head reclined on the cold stone.
Walter was a powerful lord in Burgundy, who, in his earliest youth,
had been smitten with the charms of the fair Brunhilda, a beauty far
surpassing in loveliness all her rivals; for her tresses, dark as the
raven face of night, streaming over her shoulders, set off to the
utmost advantage the beaming lustre of her slender form, and the rich
dye of a cheek whose tint was deep and brilliant as that of the
western heaven; her eyes did not resemble those burning orbs whose
pale glow gems the vault of night, and whose immeasurable distance
fills the soul with deep thoughts of eternity, but rather as the sober
beams which cheer this nether world, and which, while they enlighten,
kindle the sons of earth to joy and love. Brunhilda became the wife of
Walter, and both being equally enamoured and devoted, they abandoned
themselves to the enjoyment of a passion that rendered them reckless
of aught besides, while it lulled them in a fascinating dream. Their
sole apprehension was lest aught should awaken them from a delirium
which they prayed might continue for ever. Yet how vain is the wish
that would arrest the decrees of destiny! as well might it seek to
divert the circling planets from their eternal course. Short was the
duration of this phrenzied passion; not that it gradually decayed and
subsided into apathy, but death snatched away his blooming victim, and
left Walter to a widowed couch. Impetuous, however, as was his first
burst of grief, he was not inconsolable, for ere long another bride
became the partner of the youthful nobleman.
Wake not the Dead
"Wilt thou for ever sleep? Wilt thou never more awake, my beloved, but
henceforth repose for ever from thy short pilgrimage on earth? O yet
once again return! and bring back with thee the vivifying dawn of hope
to one whose existence hath, since thy departure, been obscured by the
dunnest shades. What! dumb? for ever dumb? Thy friend lamenteth, and
thou heedest him not? He sheds bitter, scalding tears, and thou
reposest unregarding his affliction? He is in despair, and thou no
longer openest thy arms to him as an asylum from his grief? Say then,
doth the paly shroud become thee better than the bridal veil? Is the
chamber of the grave a warmer bed than the couch of love? Is the
spectre death more welcome to thy arms than thy enamoured consort? Oh!
return, my beloved, return once again to this anxious disconsolate
bosom."
Such were the lamentations which Walter poured forth for his
Brunhilda, the partner of his youthful passionate love; thus did he
bewail over her grave at the midnight hour, what time the spirit that
presides in the troublous atmosphere, sends his legions of monsters
through mid-air; so that their shadows, as they flit beneath the moon
and across the earth, dart as wild, agitating thoughts that chase each
other o'er the sinner's bosom:--thus did he lament under the tall
linden trees by her grave, while his head reclined on the cold stone.
Walter was a powerful lord in Burgundy, who, in his earliest youth,
had been smitten with the charms of the fair Brunhilda, a beauty far
surpassing in loveliness all her rivals; for her tresses, dark as the
raven face of night, streaming over her shoulders, set off to the
utmost advantage the beaming lustre of her slender form, and the rich
dye of a cheek whose tint was deep and brilliant as that of the
western heaven; her eyes did not resemble those burning orbs whose
pale glow gems the vault of night, and whose immeasurable distance
fills the soul with deep thoughts of eternity, but rather as the sober
beams which cheer this nether world, and which, while they enlighten,
kindle the sons of earth to joy and love. Brunhilda became the wife of
Walter, and both being equally enamoured and devoted, they abandoned
themselves to the enjoyment of a passion that rendered them reckless
of aught besides, while it lulled them in a fascinating dream. Their
sole apprehension was lest aught should awaken them from a delirium
which they prayed might continue for ever. Yet how vain is the wish
that would arrest the decrees of destiny! as well might it seek to
divert the circling planets from their eternal course. Short was the
duration of this phrenzied passion; not that it gradually decayed and
subsided into apathy, but death snatched away his blooming victim, and
left Walter to a widowed couch. Impetuous, however, as was his first
burst of grief, he was not inconsolable, for ere long another bride
became the partner of the youthful nobleman.
henceforth repose for ever from thy short pilgrimage on earth? O yet
once again return! and bring back with thee the vivifying dawn of hope
to one whose existence hath, since thy departure, been obscured by the
dunnest shades. What! dumb? for ever dumb? Thy friend lamenteth, and
thou heedest him not? He sheds bitter, scalding tears, and thou
reposest unregarding his affliction? He is in despair, and thou no
longer openest thy arms to him as an asylum from his grief? Say then,
doth the paly shroud become thee better than the bridal veil? Is the
chamber of the grave a warmer bed than the couch of love? Is the
spectre death more welcome to thy arms than thy enamoured consort? Oh!
return, my beloved, return once again to this anxious disconsolate
bosom."
Such were the lamentations which Walter poured forth for his
Brunhilda, the partner of his youthful passionate love; thus did he
bewail over her grave at the midnight hour, what time the spirit that
presides in the troublous atmosphere, sends his legions of monsters
through mid-air; so that their shadows, as they flit beneath the moon
and across the earth, dart as wild, agitating thoughts that chase each
other o'er the sinner's bosom:--thus did he lament under the tall
linden trees by her grave, while his head reclined on the cold stone.
Walter was a powerful lord in Burgundy, who, in his earliest youth,
had been smitten with the charms of the fair Brunhilda, a beauty far
surpassing in loveliness all her rivals; for her tresses, dark as the
raven face of night, streaming over her shoulders, set off to the
utmost advantage the beaming lustre of her slender form, and the rich
dye of a cheek whose tint was deep and brilliant as that of the
western heaven; her eyes did not resemble those burning orbs whose
pale glow gems the vault of night, and whose immeasurable distance
fills the soul with deep thoughts of eternity, but rather as the sober
beams which cheer this nether world, and which, while they enlighten,
kindle the sons of earth to joy and love. Brunhilda became the wife of
Walter, and both being equally enamoured and devoted, they abandoned
themselves to the enjoyment of a passion that rendered them reckless
of aught besides, while it lulled them in a fascinating dream. Their
sole apprehension was lest aught should awaken them from a delirium
which they prayed might continue for ever. Yet how vain is the wish
that would arrest the decrees of destiny! as well might it seek to
divert the circling planets from their eternal course. Short was the
duration of this phrenzied passion; not that it gradually decayed and
subsided into apathy, but death snatched away his blooming victim, and
left Walter to a widowed couch. Impetuous, however, as was his first
burst of grief, he was not inconsolable, for ere long another bride
became the partner of the youthful nobleman.
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Wake not the Dead
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Product Details
BN ID: | 2940013740945 |
---|---|
Publisher: | WDS Publishing |
Publication date: | 01/11/2012 |
Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
Format: | eBook |
File size: | 33 KB |
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